


A Washing Away of Wrongs

by quicksylver28



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Character Bashing, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, Forensics, Magical Exile, Multi, Murder Mystery, Romance, Slytherin Rules - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-05
Updated: 2018-05-05
Packaged: 2019-05-02 17:15:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 36,296
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14549478
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/quicksylver28/pseuds/quicksylver28
Summary: Draco Malfoy had not set foot in the wizarding world in ten years. Then a call from a friend has him stepping into the past he'd have rather left forgotten.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This was my Rough Trade April 2018 Challenge. i hope you like it as much as i liked writing it.

The first written account of using  medicine  and  entomology  to solve criminal cases is attributed to the book of  Xi Yuan Lu  (translated as  Washing Away of Wrongs ), written in China by  Song Ci  ( 宋慈 , 1186–1249) in 1248, who was a director of justice, jail and supervision, during the  Song Dynasty .

 

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Millicent Bulstrode scooped up the edges of her camel skin coat and squatted next to the body with a frown on her usually solemn face. She tilted her head from one side to the next, her jet black hair shifting along her back as she took in every detail.

 

Using a pen, she gently lifted the ugly knit tea cozy away from the face of the old woman and grimaced at the look of pure suffering the woman's visage seemed to have been frozen in.

 

She let the tea cozy fall back into place, straightening up and taking a careful step back. Her booty covered low heels made no mark on the threadbare rug as she walked the grid, taking in the minute details of the scene. Finally, she signaled to one of the baby faced officers and he flipped open a small notebook and began to read from it.

 

"Martha Cadogan-Leftage. Squib. 98 years old. Retired school teacher at the Squib school…"

 

"St. Marcel's" Millicent corrected absently.

 

"St. Marcel's." The officer echoed, subtly rolling his eyes at the officer standing next to him. "Only child of parents Lubinia Privance -Cadogan and Uther Leftage of the Gatsing-Leftages. No kids of her own. Just ten cats and one parakeet. Last seen alive yesterday morning on her usual walk around the hamlet when she noses into everyone's business."

 

He flipped a page of the note book. "When the shop girl didn't see her come in for her usual pack of ciggies and scratch cards, she came round and found her like this. Scared the poor girl summat awful."

 

Millicent took in the desperate sprawl of the body, the clawed hands, broken and bloody fingernails, the jagged scratches at her face and throat as if she were trying to claw at whatever was in her throat and chest. This poor woman had met a horrible end.

 

She glanced at the tea service that had been knocked over in her final throes, her sharp eyes devouring every detail.

 

"Have forensics take the tea set as well."

 

"Why?" the officer asked baldly, only to flush when she looked at him. "I mean… for what purpose madam?"

 

She nodded at his look of chagrin. She often encouraged her underlings to ask questions as she'd rather have them they ask her for guidance than bumble ahead in error.

 

"There are no marks on the body. That rules out stabbing, strangling, being shot with a gun. That leaves asphyxiation, spell work or poison. Tea was also set for two so that means someone was with the victim between the time she was last seen and the time she was discovered. That person is either a witness or our killer. The tea set may give us some clue to their identity."

 

Both officers nodded with new understanding, writing ferociously in their little notepads. Millicent suppressed a smirk and looked back at the body.

 

A scuffle outside drew her attention to the window and its lace trim and she pulled the handmade lace aside,  cursing under her breath.

 

"What the hell are they doing here?"

 

The officer guarding the gate was trying in vain to stop two Aurors from entering the crime scene, their blood red dragon skin robes vibrant in the English sun.

 

"What are you doing here Potter?" Millicent raised an eyebrow, striding towards them with her hands shoved into her pockets. "This is Muggle Affairs business."

 

Potter pasted a barely polite smirk on his stupidly handsome face, making it look more condescending than attractive. But then again she'd always been turned off completely by his tendency to be a douchebag.

 

"A murdered Witch makes it Auror business."

 

With that declaration, Potter shouldered his way past the guard to meet her in the middle of the unkept garden. Apparently the old woman had been more interested in what happened in other people yards than her own.

 

His redheaded menace, Weasley, shoved in a step or two behind. "Yeah Bully, "He sneered, "We have seniority."

 

Millicent gave him a flat once over. She'd hated that name since Hogwarts but the last ten years had given her a much thicker skin. That sort of thing just rolled off her now like water off a duck's back.

 

"Weasley… " she sniffed. "Still tucked under Potter's ball sack like a good little toady? I thought  that you'd have been promoted to cock warmer by now?"

 

The guard at the gate hacked into his fist, trying poorly to cover a snort as Weasley went lobster red. Potter grabbed him by the robes and yanked him back as he tried to lunge forward but it looked to be a struggle to keep him in place.

 

"Now listen here you snake fucking bitch…" Weasley snarled, his mouth looked rabid with covered in that much spittle.

 

"Ron!" Potter snapped, grabbing his partner with both hands and yanking him back a few steps further. "Calm the fuck down mate."

 

"Yes Ron." a new voice came from the corner of the house, it was charmed to be unisex and unidentifiable. "Calm. The. Fuck. Down."

 

An Unspeakable came around the corner of the house, the voluminous robes and shadowed hood at odds with the riot of colour that was the garden.

 

Both Potter and Weasley froze.

 

"Herm…" Weasley began before Potter slammed a hand over his mouth.

 

Millicent hid her shock behind her practices Slytherin façade. Granger was an Unspeakable. She looked at the shadowed hood, trying to reconcile the bookish know-it all with the menacing figure that stood before her.

 

The figure seemed to glare at the red head from beneath the cloak. "Weasley, I warned you that the next time you tried that shite, I would obliviate you back to nappies and let Molly deal with you all over again."

 

Weasley looked apoplectic while Potter looked suitable chastised on his friends behalf. "I'll take him to the Oblivators myself, Crow."

 

Weasley sputtered some more, peppering Potter robe with spittle at the very suggestion, staring agog at this longtime partner and friend.

 

"See that you do." Crow nodded. "What is your purpose here Auror Potter? Muggle Affairs was called in to investigate this case."

 

Potter cleared his throat, all business, while the red head still sputtered stupidly behind him. "We got a call from the Magical Legacy Archive. The victim was the last of two very old and venerable lines, both which are in danger of fading away. They were concerned about line theft.

 

Millicent raised an eyebrow. "Line theft? The victime was a squib. The line would have automatically jumped to the next magical relative once she was passed child bearing age."

 

Potter nodded, "Usually yes, but some of the old families had a clause in their legacies. 'Nam postquam Res'."

 

"After the Fact of the Matter?" Crow translated. "I thought that was outlawed in 1753, after one of the royal family married a squib and wanted his children to inherit her fortune."

 

Millicent rolled her eyes. Trust Granger to pull information about obscure and outdated legal clauses out of her arse. She should have been sorted into fucking Ravenclaw.

 

"Well, then…" she said before they started a study group right there in the bloody garden. "First things first. Is this my scene or not?"

 

She looked at Crow who nodded. "Yes, Muggle Affairs has jurisdiction. I'll be in touch for updates."

 

She looked at Potter. "I'll take it up with Legacy and see if their concerns pan out."

 

Potter nodded, albeit reluctantly.   
 

"Okay then…" Millicent clapped her hands together. "… if you would all please bugger off and let me do my job that would be fantastic."

 

Potter scowled, finally grabbing his still gibbering partner and turning on his heel, no doubt side-apparating straight to the Obliviators. Crow turned the hood to face her.

 

"Do the Obliviators need to pay you a visit as well Bulstrode?"

 

The voice was deep and menacing but Millicent smirked in the face of it. "Mum's the word, Unspeakable Crow. We of the Snake House know how to keep a secret."

 

She could practically hear Grangers raising a skeptical brow. "For a price of course?"

 

The former Slytherin smiled coquettishly. "Don't worry Crow. It won't be too bad. I don't want to wake up one day snatched from my bed and shoved through the veil in my nightie."

 

It was telling how Granger didn't automatically deny that that kind of thing happened. Maybe the girl had grown some teeth after all.

 

"I'll expect your report." Crow finally said and apparated away silently.

 

Millicent stared at the spot where the hooded figure had stood for a few moments before turning and stomping back into the house. She had a case to solve.

 

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> MA - Muggle Affairs  
> MPS - Metropolitan Police Service  
> CS - Chief Superintendent  
> MOPAC - Mayor's Office for Policing and Crime.  
> DMLE - Department for magical Law Enforcement  
> DoM - Department of Mysteries

Draco awoke to the noon day sun with a pair of perky breasts pressed against his back and a hot erect cock against his thigh. He groaned softly and rubbed blearily at his eyes. He was overly warm, sticky, achy in all the right places and felt a pressing need in his bladder.

He blinked against the harsh light through the large pane glass windows that lined two entire walls of his sparse flat, the closest things to window dressing was the dirt that had built up over the years. Groaning, he carefully extricated himself from clinging hands, gasping as he was yanked down fully over a naked and very willing female body.

"Where are you off too darling?" a sultry voice purred, "All the fun is right here."

Draco growled and ground his crotch against hers, smirking when she gasped and let her legs fall open with a soft sigh. "As much as I love a good morning romp my love, I have to piss like a horse so unless your kink is in watersports, you need to let me go."

With a breathy chuckle and pout, she released her hold and snuggled back into the high thread count sheets he'd had custom made for his king sized bed.

Granted there was not much else in his flat, less than half the space dedicated to his living area, a bed, a dresser, a kitchenette with small table for two, a plush rug with floor cushions, a bean bag chair and a massive flat screen TV mounted on the raw redbrick wall.

He had a small closed off toilet and bath with a massive copper claw foot tub he'd had shipped from one of the country estates, one of the few items he'd brought with him in his exodus to muggle London.

Built above an old cinema, the flat was high ceilinged and had something that most Malfoy residences had never really possessed. Charm and character.

Of course his friends had called him crazy for wanting to live in such spartan conditions but Draco's needs had changed since his exile from the wizarding world.

What need did he have for fancy trimmings or ornate dwellings when his wand lay snapped and broken on the Wizengamot floor.

What need for talking portraits and charmed knick knacks had he when he was being forcibly stripped of his family name and all rights attached to it.

What need had he for endless empty rooms and massive gardens when his parents were being interned in the family crypt, all the while greedy ministry officials and goblins alike raided their ancient ancestral halls for anything that wasn't nailed down and a few things that were.

He gingerly picked his way across the dark hardwood floor to the bathroom, absently checking on the various potions bubbling in the workspace that took up the lion's share of the flat. Just because he couldn't actively do magic didn't mean he could find pleasure in his favourite subject.

Potions, Arithmancy and Runes were just some of the forms of magic that could be achieved without a wand and even though he'd been tossed out of the wizarding world on his ear ten years ago, they hadn't actually bound his magic or forbade him to use it.

He finished his morning ablutions, trotting over to the small kitchenette, scratching absently at his bare arse as he set the coffee machine chugging.

"Come back to bed darling" the sultry croon came again, "Coffee can wait."

"Blasphemy ." Draco scowled towards the bed. "Bite your wicked tongue"

Those perfect perky breasts jiggled wonderfully as she laughed. "I'd rather bite something else."

He folded his arms across his chest and gave her an disaffected look, even though she could clearly see what her teasing was doing to his groin. She ran a caressing hand along the curve of the dark skinned male just waking up next to her, reaching over to tug at his erect cock as he yawned and turned over.

"You minx." Draco growled low in his chest as her pale hand fisted the dark cock until it was almost purple and leaking, the man underneath her ministrations squirming and moaning on the bed. "Why do I let you talk me into this every damn time, Zabini?"

Blaise laughed and squeezed the cock in her hand, making the young man buck up with a cry. "Because you love sex and I need data for my thesis on Sexual Magical Rites. It's a win/win situation darling. What do those Muggles call it again? Friends with Bunnies."

The blond chuckled, reaching down to fist his own twitching cock lazily. "Friends with Bennies, Zazi, as in Benefits."

"Whatever it's called. It's bloody genius even if there are no rabbit involved." The woman shrugged a pale shoulder and flipped her brown hair with a grin. "Come to bed. Morning sex is the best sex."

He walked towards the bed and stood at the foot of it, looking down as Blaise guided the young man on his hands and knees to the edge of the bed. Draco ran a thumb over his swollen lips.

He was a cute young thing, pretty brown eyes and cupid's bow lips that looked so good wrapped around his cock. He grunted, placing his hands on either side of the boy's head, guiding the pace.

He met Blaise's eyes over the prostrated youth and took in her wicked smile. "How many more, ah fuck yeah right there luv, of these ickle virgins are you going to bring to my bed Zazi?"

The brunette grinned, running soothing hands over the boy's back as he swallowed Draco's cock like a champion. "A few more still Dray Darling. I'm in the middle of my Virgin Sacrifice research and it's been going exceedingly well. The power levels I've been recording have been higher than anything I've seen previously charted."

Draco bit his lip, hissing as the boy swallowed around his sensitive cock head. "So why bring them here, doesn't that affect the parameters of the testing?"

Blaise licked at the sweat on the flexing back in front of her as her hand disappeared under him. The boys jerked and moaned around Draco's cock, his eyes widening as he squirmed on her questing fingers.

"I tried going it alone but the results were weak at best. I figured that if I brought them here I could handle the cock and you could take the bum cherry."

"Don't ever fucking say the words bum cherry to me ever again." The blonde choked out, feeling his balls tighten up. He tapped the boy on the side of his face to warn him and thrust his cock deep into the hot wet cavern, trembling as he came hard.

He watched in fascination as the boy swallowed like a champ, cum leaking out from the corners of his mouth as his throat worked. Finally, his slick cock slipped from between swollen lips and he shuddered again as a rough tongue ran along the underside.

"Fuck" he breathed, letting his head fall back, his eyes closing on their own accord. "That was bloody brilliant."

By the time he opened them again, Blaise had the youth on his back and was riding his cock like a woman on a mission, wringing the most obscene noises from the young man's mouth.

"For a dyed in the wool virgin, this one sure knows how to suck cock." he chuckled, watching them writhe on the bed. "What's your name again kid?"

"Daryl, Sir" the cocoa skinned boy gasped out as he eyes rolled back in his head. "Mah name's Daryl Curtis."

"Well, Daryl Curtis…" Draco murmured as he crawled unto the bed to kneel between the boy's legs. "You must be thanking your lucky stars right now eh?"

Pressing a kiss to Blaise's sweaty shoulder, he cupped her perfect breasts and guided her back to lean against him. She groaned at the change in angle, squealing and bucking when one deft hand felt its way down her belly to pinch her clit gently. Soon enough, between the hot cock in her pussy and Draco's wicked hands, she was screaming her release; her back arching almost painfully as she came.

She slumped, moaning as hands guided her to lay on the bed in a deeply sated sprawl. She stayed in that blissed out state for long moments, just drifting in the happy place until a high choked noise caught her attention. She turned over lazily, propping her head on one hand with a lazy smile.

Daryl's back was arched off the bed, his mouth open and panting harshly as Draco pressed inch after inch of hard cock into his already well fucked hole. Her smile widened, she always loved watching Draco give cock. Ever since their school days at Hogwarts.

Everyone used to wonder what the Slytherin House got up to in their dungeon lair but is was surprisingly the Hufflepuffs who had the legendary orgies back in the day.

The Ravenclaws were a close second only because they usually fell into such opposite sides of the spectrum; either rejecting sexual release all together or becoming such sluts that they often shocked themselves with their perverted behaviour.

The Gryffindorks had been too sexually repressed and morally judgmental to get invited, only the odd lion being brought into the fold.

It was actually during her seventh year that she'd starting getting interested in Sex Magic, after a discussion with Micheal Corner of all people. They had been lazing against some floor cushions, watching Draco fuck a gasping Terry Boot slow and deep when Corner had clued her into his own observations of how the steady access to amazing sex affected certain students.

After that, she'd started her own investigations, making notes in a secret journal that she'd charmed to open only for her. It had surprised her how much regular orgasms affected the average wizard or witch. Their moods, their grades, their magical levels before and after. How they compared to those who'd gone without. It had been a revelation.

She'd delved into whatever research she could, scouring the library with a single minded obsession that blew past even Ravenclaw norms, almost reaching Granger proportions. And she'd dragged Draco along with her.

Actually, after she'd explained her new interest to Draco, he'd shrugged and said ok, on the condition that he himself only had to do the fucking and not any of the damned research himself. He had enough on his plate with twelve OWLS and a Potions Apprenticeship thank you very much.

Ever since then, they'd been on such wonderful sexual escapades and her research had come along by leaps and bounds. And speaking of coming, she leaned over and kissed Daryl hungrily, swallowing his wail as he came all over his chest and neck, splashing her cheek as well as she pressed him down unto the pillows.

She held him as his body trembled, his back arching off the bed as he whimpered, helplessly impaled of the blonde's thick cock. Crooning softly, she pet him across the chest and shoulders, soothing his soft mewls as the blonde fucked into him with steady sharp thrusts. Finally Draco stilled and pressed in balls deep, his head hanging low as he shuddered through his own completion.

Afterwards, as the three of them sprawled on the large bed, panting and utterly sated, she reached over to grab a small journal from the night stand, opening it and pulling a small pen from the spine.

She made a few notes, pulling out a small wooden slat carved with runes from a pocket in the back of the book. This was the sensor that tracked the magic levels for her experiments. She'd have to wait to get back to her own lab to add the results to her research but for now she was happy to see the runes glowing brightly.

Tucking the journal away, she sat up and stretched and got up off the bed, making her way to the kitchen. The coffee machine was full and still hot so she rifled around in Draco's silver bullet fridge for something to eat.

"You really need to go to market Darling" she said in a sing song voice as she checked the contents of a takeout box. It seemed fresh enough to she popped it into the microwave, taking a few moment to recall how to work the muggle thing. Draco had showed her a few times but she'd never gotten the hang of muggle technology as he'd done.

Giving a grunt of satisfaction, when the light came on and the carton started to spin, she took three mugs from a drying rack, filled them with coffee and carefully padded to the bed.

"I know you love that your that flat is practically Japanese but there's no reason for your fridge to be a no man's land. All you have is old packs of soy sauce, a half bottle of milk."

Draco shifted into a sitting position, taking one of the mugs as she sat at the edge of the bed.

"There's this wonderful thing I've discovered. It's called delivery. I pick up my phone and food comes to me. Besides, the milk is only there 'cause I have a half box of Trix cereal in the oven."

He rolled his eyes at her look. "I don't use the thing for it's intended purpose anyway and it make a good cupboard."

"There's milk?" Daryl shifted on Draco's other side, making a face at his u-ndoctored coffee. He smirked up at Draco. "And I thought Trix were only for kids?"

"Yeah well, I had a shitty childhood…" The blond sneered. "I think I'm entitled to eat some damned sugar cereal anytime I bloody well please."

"Sor-ree" the boy mumbled, sinking back unto the pillows.

"Don't be mad at the ickle gamin Dray… " Blaise slumped against Draco and patted his thigh consolingly. "He's just a baby."

"Not a baby." Daryl huffed around the mouth of his coffee mug. "Old enough to shag you two innit?"

Both Slytherins gave him a flat stare.

Blaise crooked an elegant eyebrow. "Don't get confused wee laddie. We're the ones who shagged you six ways from Sunday."

Draco nodded along, sagely. "You're so new to this being legal thing, you still squeak. "

The dark skinned boy huffed and stuck his face back in his coffee, sulking like a petulant child he'd claimed not to be. Draco chuckled and shared a look with Blaise, bumping shoulders with her.

"Drink you coffee and get cleaned up. I'll take you both out for breakfast, my treat."

"Thank you darling." She leaned up and bussed him on the cheek. "Great sex always leaves me feeling peckish. Dibs on the bathroom, losers."

They both watched her walk towards the bathroom with a sway in her step, her pert behind disappearing from view behind the folding door. Draco's eyes lingered on the closed door as the shower began running. Blaise has always been an incredible person, only getting more comfortable in her skin as time went by.

Draco was just wondering if he could convince Daryl to fool around a little more when his phone rang. It was muffled, the vibrating ringtone beating out a pattern against the hardwood floor. He eased out of bed, searching through the clothes carelessly scattered about the night before.

Finally, he found his pants and stood up with a noise of triumph, wrestling the cell from the fabric. Checking the caller ID, he swiped at the screen and brought the device to his ear.

"Prince."

"Draco. I need you to come in." Millicent sounded like she was walking along a busy street, the sound of traffic and church bells ringing in the distance. "Meet me at the Yard in one hour."

"Mills, You do know that you're not the actual boss of me right?" Draco frowned. "I'd need permission from the Chief Superintendent to work with the MA. CS Davies hates anything to do with the Ministry ever since that cock up with that twit from the Auror Department fucking up the evidence for the Black Hand Murders."

"I've been to see him already. Your mine for this new case."

Draco blinked, surprised. Chief Davies was a hard nut to crack even after being read in on the whole Wizarding World thing. Curiosity curled in his belly. He wondered what exactly Millicent had shown the man for him to release his top Forensics Expert to the Muggle Affairs Division.

He nodded, then huffed and gave a verbal affirmation, making a face as she hung up abruptly without even a good bye. But then again, Milli had always been abrupt. �  
Back at Howarts, rumours had gone around that she was part troll and even though he'd done his best to crush that rumour into the stone floors, they still persisted to this day. She was a tough one though, learning quickly enough not to let it affect her. And when it did affect her, to get bloody and exacting revenge.

By the Goddess, he missed spending time with them all. Even poor Crabbe and Goyle who had fallen with the dark lord. Theo, the fucker, who'd killed his new wife Astoria Greengrass and was now a vegetable in Azkaban. Daphne, who'd fled to France after her sister's death. Tracy Davis who, last he'd heard, was a housewife somewhere in Brighton.

Even Pansy, the bloody bitch who'd dropped Draco faster than a hot potato once he'd been disinherited, latching her claws into some richer than Merlin tosser from Durmstrang. He couldn't really blame her for that, she'd never said she was in it for anything other than the money and prestige but it still stung when he thought about it.

He turned to Blaise as she sauntered out of the bath in a billow of steam. She'd and Milli been the only ones to stick by his side and he felt a feeling something like love for her every time he saw her.

He dropped the pants back on to the floor as he searched through his phone for any messages he may have missed. "Change of plans. I have to go in."

The brunette pouted, bending over to pick up her underwear from where they lay tangled. He took the opportunity to ogle her arse. What, he was a red blooded male with eyes to see and a deep appreciation for the beautiful things in life.

"Must you really? I thought today was you day off." she complained, slipping on her panties after a quick cleaning spell. "I wanted waffles with fresh fruit and cream from that place we went to that time."

He reached down for his pants again and pulled out his wallet, handing her one of his credit cards. "You can still go get them. I just can't come with."

She put her hands on her hips. "I don't want to go alone."

He rolled his eyes. "Then take the boy with you. I'm sure we've worked up quite an appetite with him."

She sauntered over and pressed up against him, her perfect breasts just begging for his touch.

"But Dragon…" She purred and wiggled her chest a little, "…everything's more fun with you there. Call them back and tell them to wait."

"Yeah Dragon," Daryl smirked from the bed. "Tell'em to bugger off. We've got unfinished business."

"You are a menace" Draco scowled, pointing to Blaise and bopping her on her nose; chuckling when her eyes crossed. He pointed to Daryl. "You, don't ever call me Dragon, ever."

After making sure that the boy was sufficiently cowed, he let Blaise take the offered card and kissed her gently on the forehead then turned towards the bathroom, twisting to blow her another cheeky kiss as he walked.

"I can't. it's Millie. I have to be at the yard in under an hour. Lock up when you leave ok? I'll talk to you later Zaz. Ta Darling."

"Ta love," Blaise's frown melted in a smile and she sighed, turning to the boy still laid out on the bed. "Let's go chickadee, the waffles won't wait forever."

Daryl frowned, looking down at the mess of dried sweat and cum splattered all over his body.

"What about getting cleaned up? I'm still a mess."

Blaise grinned and walked towards the bed, waving her wand.

"Darling, that's what magic is for."


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> MA - Muggle Affairs  
> MPS - Metropolitan Police Service  
> CS - Chief Superintendent   
> MOPAC - Mayor's Office for Policing and Crime.   
> DMLE - Department for magical Law Enforcement  
> DoM - Department of Mysteries

 

 

Draco pressed his ID badge against the security panel, nodding to the on duty security officer as he waited for the telltale buzzer that signaled the raising toll gate. Bopping his head to the radio, he swung his cream coloured 1959 Austin Healey Frog Eye Sprite Convertible with blood read interior into one of the reserved parking spaces in the underground parking lot.

 

As much as he loved the tall glass heights of 10 Broadway, the traffic and parking were much better at the 'New' New Scotland Yard. He pulled his jacket and satchel from the back seat, pipping the alarm before heading to the lift.  He'd gotten the car as a gift for himself after he'd graduated from muggle university.

 

He stopped off at his office, nodding and chatting amiably with folks along the way. His assistant Yasmeen, gave him a quick rundown of his schedule and messages as he checked his email and made a few decisions that had been waiting in his inbox.

 

At precisely two minutes to the hour deadline Millicent had given him; he logged off, shrugged his jacket back on and headed down to the Coroner's office.

 

He tugged his jacket closer to his body, stepping of the lift and into the chill of the basement level. There were bodies lined along the walls of the long hallway, encased in black rubber bags, all zipped up and formless.

 

He found Millicent in Lab A, dressed in a well fitted blue dress that looked absolutely lovely against her skin and a navy blue cloak and smart shoes. Her midnight hair was in a side pony tail and tumbled down over her shoulder.

 

She was standing a ways from the body being examined on the table, almost out of the circle of bright light that shone above the examination.

 

The Medical Examiner, Doctor Sekibo, was over the body; his dark skin contrasting with his shock of white hair. His usual genial smile was hidden by a medical mask but his eyes were bright with jovial intelligence.

 

Draco nodded to them both, coming to stand next to Bulstrode as the watched the Doctor carefully uncovered the victim's face.

 

"Good Goddess above…" Draco murmured in a shocked voice. "Poor bloke looks like he swallowed a fucking bludger."

 

Millicent nodded curtly , cutting him a glance out of the corner of her eye before turning back to the young man on the slab. He looked about thirty with a mousey face, a weak shin sporting a five o clock shadow and an uneven shag of brown hair. There were track marks along his arms and that malnourished look that all drug addicts had.

 

His pale throat had a swollen mound the size of a healthy grapefruit with jagged stretch marks ran rampant along the tumor-like growth, distorting the neck. It made the poor lad look like a bullfrog belching. There were also scratch marks along the chest, neck and jaw and a brief examination of the victim's fingernails showed them to be self-inflicted.

 

Draco stepped closer, his mind already starting to twirl with the details of what he was observing. The face was frozen in an expression of desperate pain, the eyes turned milky white in the sockets and the lips turned black and cracked heavily in places. The fingernails were also black, with dark and spidery veins spreading from the tips all the way up to the knuckles in some places.

 

The Coroner motioned them over with a bloody hand.

 

"Cause of death I believe was Acute Asphyxia." He turned the victim's head carefully to the side, exposing the throat bulge which had been slit open.

 

"Some sort of reaction cause the glands in his throat to swell alarmingly fast to almost prodigious proportions. His oxygen would have been totally cut off within minutes. It would have been a very painful few minutes."

 

Millicent nodded, looking once more at the frozen expression. "Any clue to the cause of the swelling?"

 

Sekibo shook his head. "We'd have to wait on the tox screen to make any headway with that. I'd rule out acid or anything caustic thought, there is no evidence of burning or chemical irritation."

 

They all said their good byes, Draco and Millicent taking the lift out to the main lobby and unto the street in companionable silence. It is only when they are safely ensconced on the metro that Draco leaned in, hanging off the metal post between them.

 

"What's on your mind Mills?" he murmured in her ear over the rumble of the underground. She glanced at him sharply, swaying slightly as the train rattled down the track; saying nothing but telling him a world with her eyes. He nodded and settled down to wait, trusting her to read him in when they got to some place more secure.

 

The office of the Department of Muggle Affairs was set in a corner building twenty minutes away from Scotland Yard, just above an old pub called the George and Dragon. The third floor was rented out to a Data Entry firm and the top floor  housing a start-up fashion website.

 

The sign on the door had been charmed to read 'Subdivision of the Department of Health and Human Services:  Prevention and Wellness.' in a plain and boring font but only Magical Folk could see the gold plated 'Ministry of Magic: Department of Muggle Affairs - Crime and Delinquency '.

 

The offices were simple enough, lined with shelves and filing cabinets, aging desks shoved together and covered in stuffed thick manila folders. A couple of young officers were sitting at desks, working steadily at computers while dictator quills scribbled independently beside them. A raccoon patronus skipped lightly from one of the smaller offices to another while a memo plane flew in the opposite direction.

 

Milli stalked through the office, handing off an envelope to one of the young officers, before entering her own office at the end of the long room.

 

Draco settled into one of the visitors chairs, charmed by the modern surfaces and pops of bright colours that looked so vibrant in the sun light shining through the windows that lined the office.

 

Her desk was  large, white and plexiglas that curved organically, her other furniture just as dynamic and quintessentially Millicent. She had a slim white computer sitting next to a shiny silver foe glass and didn't that just say all about how Millicent Bulstrode operated.

 

She stepped up to a large filing cabinet, pulling out a folder, thick and colour coded with the little post it thingies he loved to use himself.

 

Muggle stationary had been like shiny new toys to him when he'd left the wizarding world and it still held a place near and dear to his heart. Like the dragon he'd been named after, he had secret hoards of bits and bobs both at home and back at his office.

 

She spread out the folder before him, taking out three separate profiles. One was a frumpy middle aged man of Indian decent, the second an old woman in a brightly patterned house dress and last the man whose autopsy they'd just witnessed.

 

He took his time reading through each file, taking in the details. Milli left him in peace, starting up her computer and sifting through correspondence. Finally he sat back, deep in thought and she looked up, giving him her full attention.

 

"This is the third one like this in as many years. The first passed through this office while  under Hastings. He dismissed it as just another squib death. I read through all the unsolved cases when I took over and it struck me as familiar when the old woman turned up last year with a similar MO. "

 

She shuffled through the papers and pulled out a photo of the crime scene. The victim's face looked scarily similar, her face frozen in pain, her throat scratched raw and bulging abnormally.

 

"No other leads, no clue. Only that it happens once a year." she looked up at him with a serious look in her eyes. "The only thing connecting them is the fact that they are squib decedents of almost extinct magical lines."

 

Draco sat up with a frown. "Line theft? But how? Wouldn't the legacy have jumped to the next magical relative upon confirmation of the squib dynamic?"

 

"You caught on to that quicker that any of us did. " Millicent smirked, leaning back into her chair. "Apparently someone has been using an obscure ritual to circumvent squib bloodline access, essentially stealing ancient family magics and wealth for their own gain."

 

Draco shook his head. "How are they even getting away with it though?  Don't they have to go to the goblins to access the money?"

 

"You'd think so." Millicent propped her chin on her hand and huffed in frustration. "Apparently the oldest families were the money under the mattress types and had ways of accessing their bank vaults directly. Some of the accounts are so old that they are not even on the active Goblin Registry. Chief Ragnok had to have the first to Vault physically checked for changes to the inventory."

 

She tapped on the first victim. "Jitender Pravin Singh, Last of the Ashok-Singhs. The Vault they kept in England was near empty when we finally opened it. Ragnok had to go down into the stone carvings room to find out what had been held in there. The Indian Magical Government had reported that several of the old estates have gone unplottable."

 

She pulled out the next one. "Martha Cadogan-Leftage. Daughter of Lubinia Privance -Cadogan and Uther Leftage of the Gatsing-Leftages. This one caught the eye of the Ministry for sure."

 

Draco chuckled. "Hmmm yes, the Gasting -Leftages hold the rights to floo powder recipe don't they? Folks have been making money hand over fist since there's been no one to fight them on patent violations. If the new heir decided to weigh in on the situation, the Wizarding world may just some to a screeching halt."

 

Milli shared a dark smile with him, reaching for the final folder. "Denys Shwetz…"

 

Draco gaped. "Not one of the infamous Shwetz? The masterminds behind the greatest Gem Caper to ever be pulled off. The legend of the Spartak Valentyn Ruby still pops up whenever a red stone comes up for auction."

 

She tapped a lacquered fingernail on the photo taken of a younger, healthier Denys. "He's the last known member of the direct family line. There are cousins but they are too far removed to inherit."

 

"The vault alone…. Holy fuck Milli. The fucking Valentyn." Draco sat back with an explosive sigh. He furrowed his brow and looked at his longtime friend. "So what exactly has this got to do with me Mills?"

 

Millicent sat back and twirled in her chair absently from side to side. "The Ministry wants the DMLE to take over the case. Potter's been chomping at the bit since last year. They've all got their petty coats up in a ruffle over the threat of line theft. None of them give a shit about dead squibs."

 

She shook her head, looking out of the window. "This case has roots in muggle society and if they take the reins on these cases, they are going dismiss anything not dealing with magic outright. I need an analytical eye that knows both the muggle and magical world. Someone who can think logically and laterally. I want to bring you in as my forensic expert."

 

"I'm always happy to work with you Mills but there's just one problem." Draco frowned. "Just the small matter of me being exiled from the wizarding world. You know… for eternity."

 

"There are ways to get around that." A disguised voice came from the corner of the office and they both jumped up, Millicent pulling her wand and Draco grabbing up a stapler and holding it like a knife.

 

The wall rippled, a disillusion charm fading as a hooded figure appeared; the dark form and shadowed hood giving it a terrifyingly familiar countenance.

 

Draco hadn't seen an unspeakable in ten years, his last vision of the faceless boogiemen from the Department of Ministries was the dark night they had come for him, alone and afraid in his family mansion; grabbing him and dragging him off to Wizengamot for a farce of a trial.

 

He shivered at the chill the memory brought him, watching the figure wearily as he subtly edged his way around towards Millicent. It wasn't Slytherin to show such blatant weakness in front of a witch or wizard but even though he'd mellowed out over the years, seeing one still made him uneasy..

 

Milli huffed and put away the wand, waving at Draco to put the stapler down with a roll of her eyes. She straightened her dress and turned to the cloaked figure.   
  
"Crow," she greeted, taking a seat once again. "What do you have for me?"

 

Draco took another subtle step behind the desk, standing back with his arms folded across his chest. He could feel the Unspeakable staring at him. That shadowed stare brushed coldly across his face. He pulled his Ice Prince of Slytherin persona, that he'd perfected in Hogwarts, around him like a cloak and stared firmly back.

 

Finally, a hand reached into the voluminous cloak and pulled out a scroll. It was sealed with black wax and had the seal of the department of Mysteries. Crow placed the scroll on the table and for a few seconds, Draco and Millicent just stared at it as if it would come alive and bite them.

 

The unspeakable huffed and took a seat in the same chair Draco had occupied, gesturing to the scroll.

 

"Temporary Pardon from Magical Exile. Signed by the Chief Unspeakble, the sitting Minister of Magic and the Queen herself, Guardian of the Magical Realm. Valid for the duration of this case, such a period to be determined by me."

 

"Merlin's saggy balls" Draco gaped and gave an aborted reach for the innocuous piece of paper.  "I didn't know that there was even a way to breach a formal Magical Exile Order that didn't include a vow from the Supreme Mugwump and two thirds of Wizengamot."

 

"Well… " Crow shrugged, "They never read Abstruse Mandates and Charters through the Ages by Wilfreda Gill in 1735. Abridged in 1890  by her son Manfred Gill - Juniper."

 

Draco narrowed his gaze at the figure then turned to Millicent. "Since when did Granger become a fucking Unspeakable?"

 

The figures started, sitting forward in the chair as Millicent raised her hands in surrender.

 

"I didn't tell him!" she all but shouted, startling everyone, even herself. She laughed a bit hysterically, "I swear on my magic."

 

"What? Really?" Draco threw up his hands. "I was joking. Who else would bloody read books on old and obscure litigation for shits and giggles?"

 

The hooded figure slapped a gloved hand to their shadowed forehead.  "Bloody fecking hell."

 

 


	4. Chapter 4

Regardless of his loyalty to Millicent and the potential gravity of such a case on the Wizarding world as a whole, it was still his day off so he took copies of the case files, bid his farewell to both women and made his way back to Victoria Embankment for his car.

Stopping off for some fish and chips from one of his favourite dive bars along with a six pack of shandy, he made his way back to the loft, kicking off his shoes at the door and placing his goods on the kitchen table. 

He checked up on a couple of his ongoing potions, losing himself for a while in the routine of stirring clockwise and counter clockwise, counting precise drops, cutting, slicing, mincing and making absent notes in his potions journal.

Potions were his passion. Ever since he was six years old and Draco's favourite Uncle Severus played a prank on his ever stern father, turning his platinum blond hair slytherin green. It was the first time he'd seen Lucius as something other than the cold and distant "Father" and made "Mother" seem more like a Mummy when she'd clapped and laughed freely.

Severus had then taken him and guided his clumsy, childish hands through making the simple concoction himself. Draco had fallen in love in that moment, a seed of unwavering loyalty plated in his heart for crooked nosed, greasy haired, sallow faced genius.

Granted, the man was a bitter, angry prick with the charm of a rabid vampire bat to the rest of the world but to Draco, he'd been a saviour, a touch stone, a sounding board, a mentor. 

For the times when Draco and Lucius would butt heads, both too proud to back down, Severus would come and knock some sense into both of them. Sometimes literally as the man was an expert dueler.

For the times when Draco would get emotional frostbite from his mother's ice cold demeanor, when all his attempts at living up to her high expectations on what a pureblood Malfoy should be. He would floo over to Spinner's End and spend a few days lost in whatever experiments currently being worked on.

For the times when his Aunt Bellatrix tormented her 'ickle drakeypoo' (before she got sent to Azkaban of course, the crazy bitch) and Severus would step between them and take the brunt of her cruel humour. 

For the times when the pressure of being a Malfoy, a pureblood in high society, being the self-proclaimed Ice Prince of the snake house, going head to head with Granger for top marks. For the times he locked horns with Potter for whatever reason. For the times when neither alcohol nor sex could release the pressure building under his ribs.

For the times when it all got to be too much, he would find solace in the solemn silence of Severus' personal lab. A place of which the sole purpose was the pursuit of knowledge, where you left all baggage and drama at the door and only science reigned.

It was through Severus that Draco had been introduced to muggle chemistry, fanning a fire of curiosity in the young man's breast. Chemistry turned out to be a gateway drug and he would let Draco devour science books and pass papers in his private office after class and on the weekends; answering the countless questions that inevitably came soon after.

In the trials that came out after the Fall of the Dark Lord, the ministry and press had both lambasted the man posthumously in the public eye, bringing up and displaying every single flaw and fault of the former Death Eater turned spy. By the time they were done, people hated the name Snape even more than they hated Voldemort in end.

Draco had endured the smear campaign against his Godfather with the same aloof demeanor that all of Slytherin house perfected by their third year. He had known the man Severus was, had known the bitter and cruel man he'd let himself become; but to Draco, he was and always would be his favourite person.

Besides, Severus had gotten his own back in the end in an iron clad will and ritual which had been triggered the second the ministry had tried to pry their greedy, grubby fingers into his estate. Even from beyond the grave, Severus Snape had been a master at pissing people the fuck off.

Placing the rest of the shandy in the fridge, he plucked one of the bottles and plopped down unto the floor cushions with his food. Reaching over, he grabbed the remote, scrolling through the recordings of Coronation Street before picking the last one he'd missed.

The fish and chips were terribly greasy and absolutely delicious, the grease coating his fingers and making the bottle slip in his grasp. 

By the time the credits started rolling, he'd crumpled up all the food wrappers and licked his fingers clean, chuckling at the thought of his mother turning in her grave over his utter lack of civilized behaviour.

He then stripped and took a log hot shower, listening to the voices from the matinee show echoing up through the pipes from the cinema downstairs. 

Back when he'd first bought the building, they'd been planning on closing down the theatre but he'd fallen in love with muggle vintage movies while in Uni and had found the old world charm of the place fascinating. 

With the help of the old projectionist and a new manager, a young woman named Jackie, they'd managed to market the place as "retro-chic".

They'd installed a coffee shop to the front, with a few tables and pastries for the hipster crowd and even though it would ever be a social hotspot, it held its own as a business with its free WIFI and comfortable lounge chairs.

He padded on bare feet, grabbing the rest of the six back and his work bag and carrying them to the bed. He read through all the files, giving each page a thorough read through before setting it aside. 

This was part of his process. He took in all the facts as a whole, letting them ruminate in the back of his brain for a while before taking it apart bit by bit tomorrow. 

Finishing off the six pack, he tucked the files away in a locked filing cabinet and stretched languidly, rolling one shoulder then the other. 

His phone chimed. A reminder from Blaise not to be late tonight. He sent back a thumbs up and dropped the phone unto the bed, walking towards his armoire to pick out an outfit.

Rasputin was fairly pumping by the time Draco arrived, the pulsing lights and throbbing base reaching far beyond the shining cobble stone street. The night club was owned and run by a pair of twins, one a witch, one a squib. Evita Cruz-Sosa de Gaspar had already in seventh year by the time Draco had been sorted. 

Her sister Emelia, in an odd turn in behavior for pure blood families, had been showered with love and respect and given the finest muggle education her parents could afford. Both sisters had an incredible acumen for business and Rasputin was just their latest successful venture. 

The bouncers waved Draco passed the crowded line and as he entered the club, the wall of heat and sound enveloped him like hug. He made a bee line for the corner booth where Blaise usually held court, a few faces both strange and familiar surrounding her already. 

She looked gorgeous as always, her dusky skin luminous against the pink shimmering cocktail dress and matching heels. Her hair tumbled down her shoulders and bare back in a riot of brown curls. He gave her a look of appreciation before sliding into the booth.

"Darling!" she smiled and leaned over to kiss him, making the young man she'd been flirting with before frown. "Thank the goddess you're here. It's been dullsville without you."

"I can see that." He smirked, glancing at her hand as it slowly crept up the thigh of the young man sitting between them. She gave him and impish grin and a wink in return.

Two rounds of drinks later, no doubt bought on the credit card he had yet to get back from Blaise, and a hand slid across his shoulder in a caress. He stiffened briefly and looked up to see Evita sliding into the booth next to him, plastering her curvaceous body against his from shoulder to knee.

She was a stunning beauty, dark hair cut in an asymmetrical bob, chocolate brown piercing eyes, a gorgeous rack and legs that went on for days. She cocked her head, giving him a sly look through thick lashes. 

"Hola Chico…" she flipped her hair over her shoulder. "It's wonderful to see you here once again. It's very good for business to have the Ice Prince of Slytherin in one of my booths."

She dragged her fingertips along the line of his shoulders, twitching her plump lips into a soft, sexy pout. He gave her a skeptical look, taking in her quirked eyebrow, her pouting lips and her amazing cleavage. 

"Don't bullshit me 'Vita…" he scoffed, "I haven't been part of what people think of as 'high society' since the exile and you know it. I left all that behind for the muggle world a long time ago."

"Exile or not, mijo… " She hummed and adjusted her body in order to lean in closer and whisper in his ear. "We the children of Hogwarts have longer memories and deeper loyalties than the older generations would believe of us."

She tucked something into his jacket pocket, patting it fondly before easing out of the booth and disappearing into the dancing crowd. He stared after her, thinking hard on the words she'd whispered before reaching into his pocket to retrieve the gift.

It was a small red plastic card with a stylized "R" on the front in shiny black. There was a magnetic strip on the other side. An access card. 

Blaise cooed in delight, crawling half over the boy's lap in order to study the card closer. "Oooh Darling, we've been invited to the VIP lounge."

She flicked her gaze upwards ad he followed it up to the second level where an area was cordoned off by dark glass.

We raised a curious brow. "We've been invited?"

"Of course Dearest…" She pressed a quick kiss to his jaw. "You wouldn't appreciate it well enough without me there. You can be a real stick in the mud you know."

Draco huffed, pulling he cad away from her grabby hands. "I'll have you know that I went to many a lively shindig back in school."

She rolled her eyes playfully, "Darling, you only went to most of those because Pansy and I had to surgically remove you from your books and potions. Don't get me wrong, once you got going you were magnificent to behold but I always had the feeling that you would have been just as happy pulling a Granger by the fireplace I the dorms."

Draco made a belligerent face before finally nodding his head in concession and chuckling ruefully. He had been a bit of a closet nerd in his youth. It was only his duties as the Malfoy Scion that had him setting aside his relentless pursuit of knowledge aside in order to cement his social status amongst his peers.

He glanced back at his friend as she all but wiggled on the lap of the dazed looking youth she'd been leading along by the nose, looked back at the card then up at the room with its dark glass windows.

He nodded to himself and took a deep breath.

"Alright let's do this."


	5. Chapter 5

The VIP Lounge at Rasputin was wizard space, like the TARDIS. Much bigger on the inside. Art deco design with smooth lines, gold highlights, high ceilings and tall decorative windows that shone with beautiful daylight even though it was after a moonless midnight. 

Blaise, having cut her tipsy young man loose back at the booth, traipsed over to one of the deep red couches and flopped down next to a laughing Michael Corner, diving immediately into conversation about her ongoing research. Draco followed at a more sedate pace, placing an order for gin and tonic from the wait staff who had suddenly and silently appeared at his shoulder. 

He settled next to a giggling Susan Bones and Colin Creevey, openly checking out the rest of the room. He caught the eye of Terry Boot, who looked as fuckable as ever, ensconced in a darkened corner with a depressed looking Marietta Edgecombe. 

At the pool table near one wall, Alicia Spinett was ruthlessly hustling money from a group of dudebros soaked in a cloud of Axe body spray, out of their drinking money.

There were several more Hogwarts students of varying years and houses spread out across the lounge, mixed in with some he recognized vaguely from Beauxbatons and some from Durmstrang that he recognized by their ingrained mannerisms. 

Faces he hadn't seen in ten years, some even more. He got a few curious looks back, some frowns but all in all, his presence had been quickly accepted, in only tolerated in some cases. The sisters had a fierce zero tolerance policy on mal-intent and no one wanted to be blacklisted from the hottest mixed-magic club in the city.

There were also several squibs mixed in, young hot London elite with high paying jobs and long standing magical legacies. Emilia was holding court at one of the corner couches, her long dark hair tumbling over her shoulders. 

There was a young fashion blogger/ Socialite who's sex tapes had catapulted her into notoriety; a ruthless young lawyer whose upward mobility seemed suspiciously charmed; a couple of young business women and a sergeant from the Yard who looked vastly different than how he did in uniform. Young, powerful people that the Cruz-Sosa de Gaspar twins continued to pull into the vast social network they were building.

Bones giggled again, sagging against Draco's side as Colin laughed his way through a funny story he'd recently covered for the Prophet. They both seemed at least two sheets to the wind so he let her rest against him without complaint. 

He'd always been fond of the Bones Family. Susan had been a clever study partner and occasional lover back in school and her Aunt being one of the only people who had defended him during his trial, pushing for exile instead of some of the more awful alternatives that had been brought before Wizengamot.

Susan was now the youngest head of the Department of International Magical Cooperation in history and was on the fast track for Minister in a decade or two. Her aunt had turned down the coveted post, instead staying put as head of the DMLE. Word was that she was keeping the spot until Potter was ready to take it up. 

Draco shook his head and scoffed quietly into his drink. Potter may be an utter prat but at least he was an honest one. Draco may not hold truth, justice and righteousness as desirable traits but even he had to admit that the Boy Who Lived to be a Tosser made for good leadership. He'd make a good minister in about 50 years if he eventually let them stick him behind a desk. 

He'd also been able to keep track of the Creevey brothers through Blaise's subscription of the Daily Prophet, the paper having been bought over by the a shell company that Draco was 150% sure was a shell company for the Potter Estate. 

The paper's sudden change in ideology and content stank of Gryffindork morality but at least the paper reported on verified facts now and wasn't just the blatant propaganda machine it had been under Fudge. 

It was also a worthy foil to the still weirdly wonderful articles from the Quibbler. Draco had a subscription to that one himself. He thoroughly enjoyed Lovegood's kooky travel photos and misadventures around the world searching for strange and wondrous beasts. He was also tickled pink how the magazine arrived via muggle post each month, slipping under his door even though all his other post was routed through to his PO Box. 

The Creeveys also ran a muggle equivalent in the form of a website/ news blog/podcast radio company called Vertex which had a members only log in function for those in the know to get access to resources for the magically inclined and magically adjacent. 

Colin ran the Prophet while Dennis managed the website and various other muggle publications. In the past decade, with Potter's backing behind the scenes; the brothers' news empire had grown into the most powerful in Magical Britain. 

He absently sipped on his drink, letting conversation flow passively around him until the cushion dipped next to him and a warm body pressed against his arm. 

"Drake the Snake… as I live and breathe." Boot hooked an arm around the back of the couch and leaned in close to Draco's ear, putting his lean body on tantalizing display and engulfing Draco in the familiar scent of his cologne. It immediately brought him back to school days and the feeling of his hands on slim pale hips, of swollen pink lips wrapped around his throbbing cock. 

He adjusted his trousers subtly and smirked when Boot's eyes followed the action hungrily. Draco leaned in close to a pierced earlobe, chuckling darkly as he nipped at the sensitive skin behind the curl of the ear before worrying the flesh gently between his teeth. Boot shivered, stifling a moan as his hand stole into Draco's lap, giving his thigh a squeeze. 

"You were the only one who I ever let call me that, Terrible." the platinum blonde murmured, "I would have hexed anyone else stupid." 

Boot flushed, his pale lashes dusting against his sharp cheeks. His hair was longer, still a riot of wild blond curls that were probably still as soft as Draco remembered. He'd filled out a bit, still long and lean and sun kissed from head to toe. His eyes were still that vibrant sky blue that shone with intelligence and confidence.

Boot had been his on again off again lover during his school daze of sexual experimentation and stress relief. A trust and intimacy had developed between them that had existed only within the boundaries of the surface they'd been fucking on. All other times, they were the quintessential Ravenclaw and Slytherin purebloods scions from long standing, magical families.

It was good to see the man again and he had a sudden yearning to find out if the blonde's mouth still tasted as good as he remembered. Boot, moaned into the kiss, his hand dragging dull nails up Draco's thigh to just below his crotch. 

"Let's get out of here" he rasped when Draco finally pulled away. "I need your cock in me."

Draco swallowed heavily, his cock jumping in his pants and he glanced over at Blaise who was now scribbling rapid notes unto a cocktail napkin while she and Corner argued good-naturedly. 

She glanced up, as if she could feel his eyes on her, looking at them both; her sharp gaze taking in Draco's dilated gaze and the position of Boot's hand and grinned; nodding once. She was a big girl. She'd see herself home. Rasputin had a floo in one of the back rooms and a car service for those who preferred muggle transportation.

Terry spent most of the ride home with his hand down Draco's pants, laughing freely as they tore through the empty streets in his convertable. They stumbled into Draco's apartment, shedding clothes as they went and ended up bumping into one of the work tables, sending one of the potions sloshing. 

They jumped apart, Draco letting out a curse and hurrying to steady the cauldron. Terry hovered, his interest peaked as he watched as skilled, steady hands set things to rights. 

They spend nearly half an hour checking on all of the work, the Ravenclaw helping with menial tasks, scribbling down dictated notes and getting into at least one in depth discussion on the difference between slicing and cubing certain ingredients.

They'd both been favourites of the famed Hogwarts Potions Master though Draco had been lucky to have such a comprehensive apprenticeship while Terry had been relegated to mostly extra credit work and personal research.

After the last potion is observed, tweaked and annotated; Terry pulled Draco towards the bed with a sly grin. Draco watched silently as the blond stripped off the rest of his clothes, unbuckling his belt and kicking off his shoes. 

Terry pulled a wand from the hidden holster in his pants, eying Draco warily. "Do you mind?"

"Why would I?" Draco raised an eyebrow "Magic makes prep much easier. The muggle way is so tedious."

The blonde shrugged. "So you don't mind me using this in front of you?" He waved the wand and it let out a few golden sparkles.

Draco shook his head and pushed the other gently back so that he bounced on the mattress gently. He tugged at the blonde's underwear, pulling harder when Terry lifted his hips with a grin.

"I'm still a pragmatist Boot." he tossed the pants to one side, "just because I can't actively use a wand doesn’t mean I don't appreciate what it can do. Now get over here and put your mouth on me."

"Yes Sir"

************************************

Crow slipped through shadow space with nary a sound, coming out in a darkened corner of the Auror Division. It was one of the many nooks and crannies built into the ministry building to let those in the know slip from one place to another. 

Even with Unspeakable Cloaks being charmed up the wazoo with notice me not, muggle repellent and all other manner of useful magic, it felt more than odd having to trudge up and down stairs or brave the usually overstuffed lift.

She observed the hustle and bustle of the office, watching as groups of seasoned officers and young rookies alike talked, laughed and argued over crowded desks and chalk boards full of chicken scratch.

She'd tried to introduce a magical version of white boards and other advanced accoutrement to the DMLE during her time at the Ministry but there had been a lot of push back. Even Harry had shrugged in defeat when her proposals had died a tragic death after the first trial run.

He'd tried to gently mansplain to her why the project hadn't worked, how she'd tried to do too much too fast, how the retraining alone would be a phenomenal cost of time and money.

Basically, how to most of them she was just a uppity know it all muggleborn who wanted to fix something that wasn't broken. She'd been all but ready to tear out her hair at that point. Or sock her best friend across the face.

Of course, at that time her carefully planned future had been crumbling around her ears and she'd been on the very edge of going postal and hexing everyone around her to hell and back.

Her job at the Ministry had been going nowhere, Ron had begun showing his true colours; harping about when she was going to be done with this work thing so that they could get married already. 

Then she was apparently supposed to become a house wife just like his mum; pop out a litter of redheaded rascals just like his mum; cook his meals and keep his house and spread her legs whenever he felt for a bit of a grunt and tumble.

One day she'd finally snapped and yelled at him that if he wanted a girl just like his mum, then he should bloody well just marry Molly and be done with it. Of course she'd yelled this in the middle of a Weasley family picnic. She'd also used a sonorus charm because Ron was a bit thick and couldn't take a hint if it fucked him up the bum.

It was safe to say that almost all of Ottery St. Catchpole had heard her rant that day. It was also safe to say that she'd never been invited around to Weasley family events after that.

Ginny ended up being the only one to keep in touch, albeit sporadically. The red head had taken a job playing quidditch with the Harpies and spent most of the year touring the world. She'd eventually married Dean Thomas on the steps of a magical justice of the peace in Naples and didn't that almost give the Weasley matron a coronary. 

The second wedding had been a huge family affair and Hermione had spent most of it watching from the roof of Luna Lovegood's house, eating smuggled wedding cake. 

Since their adventure in fifth year and the debacle at the hall of prophecies, Luna had become a stalwart friend and companion, her oddball wisdom and seer tendencies made talking to her interesting even though she sometimes tried Hermione's logical mind sorely.

After graduation, she'd taken to exploring the world; seeking out lost places, animals and people and sending fantastical articles and pictures back to her father for publishing. 

Unfortunately, Hermione had never made any other female friends, never being able to relate to the girls in her year well at all. She'd basically resigned herself to being in the golden trio and had invested her time and affections to the two boys she'd grown up with.

With Ron being persona non grata, it had been Harry who'd been her comfort during that tumultuous time. He'd been kind and considerate, comforting through her break up and her frustrations with her job and with her estrangement from the Weasleys. 

He would bring over food, tidy her apartment, help her go over her revised proposals and return the numerous library books she borrowed as references. He would hold her as she cried fat tears of sheer frustration in front of the fireplace and pour her into bed when she got wasted on fire whiskey.

She'd been so grateful to have him in her life.

Until the day he'd tried to get in her pants.

After she'd hexed him off the couch for trying to grope her breast, she'd stuck her wand point up his nose and demanded that he explain himself. Wincing from the pain of a piece of sharp wood in his nostril, he'd hastily explained that he'd always been in love with her and that he'd said nothing all these years because Ron had claimed her first.

Once Hermione had stopped seeing red at the idea that she'd could be 'claimed' like a piece of fucking roast rump, she'd made several things very clear to the Boy Who Couldn't Keep His Hands To His Fucking Self; shutting down firmly whatever idea he had in his mind about starting a relationship.

Thankfully, Harry took a hint better than Ron ever did and they'd managed to salvage their friendship, mostly. After several talks and several more trips to a discreet therapist, Harry had come away with the realization that he'd been more in love with the idea of having relationship like his parents and the Weasley's had known than he'd been with Hermione herself.

It had all boiled down to her being one of the few women he'd trusted and was of appropriate age. Hermione had huffed at the idea of just being 'suitable enough and available' but she understood that Harry's childhood had fucked him up emotionally so she gave him a bit of slack on the matter. 

That didn't mean that she wouldn't hex the cunt if he got out of hand though. 

She'd been approached by the Department of Mysteries soon after that, going through the Unspeakable training and taking the name Crow. It had been the turning point that she'd hadn't known she'd been waiting for. 

With the DoM, she'd finally found her stride. Even though most of what they learned would never see the light of day and she would never win any accolades with the public but the pure learning and discovery of both new things and old; gave her life such fulfillment that she couldn't even quantify in words.

Of course, Hermione Jean Granger was still on file as working in Magical Civil Management and she still had a small office there but it sat mostly empty and just for show with a small sign saying that she was out doing field assessments.

A commotion at the door to Harry's office brought her attention back to the present and she looked up to see Harry, Ron and a few other Aurors hustling out and scattering through the large room. 

She slipped around the desks, skirting between the busy witches and wizards until she was at the office door. Harry was back behind his desk, frowning at some paperwork spread out on the large ornately carved wooden desk.

She let the door close softy behind her and dropped the illusion charm. Harry's quill stopped its scratching but he didn't look up.

"Auror Potter" she took a seat, resting her gloved hands on the arm rests.

"Crow" he replied, glancing up at her through dark, thick lashes. 

One of his dark curls flopped down to cover the faded tell-tale scar. He'd grown it out since the war, it had been the only way they'd found that made it possible to bring some semblance of order to his unruly mop.

His bottle green eyes showed nothing but wary respect and she was once again grateful that the obliviators were so skilled in their line of work. Having Ron and Harry know her true identity had been a mistake that, thankfully, hadn't come back and bitten her in the ass. 

It had been a pure accident, Ron finding out. And of course he'd blabbed to Harry first thing and it had taken an unbreakable vow much like the one she'd drafted for the DA to keep him from telling anyone else.

Her decision not to memory charm them immediately had been influenced by nostalgia and a misplaced sense of loyalty. Luckily she'd gotten over that in time not to have jeopardized her career or theirs. 

All they knew now was a Hermione who ducked her head and did her job in Civil Engineering and had lunch once a month at the leaky cauldron to reminisce about school days.

She placed a scroll on his desk and watched as he reared back from the black waxed seal.

"What is this?" he stared at the paper then at her. 

"Temporary Pardon From Exile for Draco Prince. He's to be brought in as a forensic consultant on the Line Theft Murders."

"You're bringing Malfoy in on the Squib Case?" Harry gaped. "That's absurd. I won't allow it."

Crow scoffed, "This isn't a request Auror Potter. This is just a courtesy so that you would be forewarned."

"But it's Malfoy" he sputtered, throwing his quill unto the desk and spotting ink unto the parchment he had been writing on. He crossed his arms over his chest and glared at the shadow of her hood. "He was exiled for a reason."

"And he's being brought in for a reason."

Her disguised voice turned cold and calm. "You are expected to provide your full co-operation in this regard. Both you and your entire division will be at the disposal of Bultstrode's Division and any consultant brought in to assist on this case."

She gestured at the scroll. "I don't have to remind you of the potential repercussions if this case is confirmed as a systematic and successful line theft. There are a lot of eyes looking this way."

Potter scowled, the way he always did when he was being belligerent. "Then why'd you leave the squib case with Muggle Affairs? We should be handling it instead."

"For exactly that reason" she replied, "Calling it a Squib case shows me exactly the amount of concern you have for the muggle aspect of the case. Bultsrode is an expert of working in both worlds and it is in both worlds that this case will be solved."

Potter looks properly chastised and still mulish but he said nothing else, only nodding and reaching out to crack open the scroll. 

Only satisfied when she'd witnessed him reading and initialing the parchment in acknowledgement; she stood and bid her goodbyes. She knew that he wasn't happy with the situation but as Head Auror, he knew when to suck it up and play well with others.

She didn't want to be around when Ron found out though. Thank Merlin the connection between Hermione and Crow had been plucked from his mind. She was sure that he would have found himself around to her place in no time flat to badger her about it.

"I will be in touch." 

She said over her shoulder as she stalked to the door, the cold feeling of disillusionment crawling over her. Casting a notice me not on the door, she opened it and slipped out of the room and out of the department all together.

Checking her enchanted pocket watch, she quickly made her way to the DoM. She changed out of her uniform and into witches robes and made her way to her little office in Civil Engineering where she made small talk with some of the other staff and checked her Incoming box.

An hour later she sighed and grabbed her purse, making her way to the floo. Stepping out unto the hearth of the leaky cauldron, she quickly banished the soot from her clothes and cast an eye around the room.

It was crowded as usual and in their usual booth she could already see Harry slumped, a bottle of fire whiskey and two shot glasses already on the table. She sighed again, deeper this time and mentally girded her loins.

"Well…" she told herself as she walked towards him. "… at least he didn't bring the Weasley." 

She hated to hex a cunt on an empty stomach.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> MA - Muggle Affairs  
> MPS - Metropolitan Police Service  
> CS - Chief Superintendent   
> MOPAC - Mayor's Office for Policing and Crime.   
> DMLE - Department for magical Law Enforcement  
> DoM - Department of Mysteries

"Hey…" Terry walked his fingers lazily across Draco's chest in the early morning light. "I have to get going. I'm due for work in an hour and it takes me twenty minutes just to get through security."

Boot worked at a place known throughout the wizarding world as The Consortium. The ancient global, financial securities firm, once called the League of Shadows, stood apart as one of the more powerful financial institutions not run by goblins. 

It was a high profile job, very hush hush, and he'd had to undergo three different background checks and a thorough scouring of his private life before he'd been given the position. 

Draco only knew passing information about the place through Narcissa, the Black Family's British legacy had been Ancient and Noble enough for her to have business dealings with them. 

Surprisingly the British Malfoys had been too young a line magically to have any connections and it had pissed his father off something awful when marrying Narcissa hadn't automatically meant being grandfathered in by the then head of the Black Family. 

The French Line of Mal Foi had only been eligible through its Veela heritage and even that had become too diluted half way through the seventeenth century. 

In the years that had passed, the Black Family Seat had passed unto Sirius and then to Potter and with it, Lucius' ambitions in that regard had dwindled down to nothing.

He'd often wondered if the Consortium had ever contacted Potter, being the Lord of both Potter and Black Houses. Even if they did, it tickled him to muse on whether Potty would have put aside his Gryffindork holier than thou tendencies and involve himself with an organization based on such wild and grey magic, secrecy and shadow.

But those were idle thoughts for another day. Right now he had a warm and willing body in his arms. He squeezed Boot's fine ass with both hands, pulling the man to lay on top of him.

Terry squirmed, leaning down to kiss him sloppy and deep him with a long, low groan and a salacious grin. 

"Unf. I really have to go Drake. Come on."

"I'd rather you cum on me." Draco gave the cheeks another squeeze, thrusting his hips in a gently roll that had them both groaning.

"That was bloody awful." Boot pulled away and made a face. "And I really have to get home and cleaned up before I head out. My boss is a real stickler for punctuality."

"Not even time for a quickie in the shower?" Draco let him pull away, watching him as he walked around the room picking up his discarded clothes. "You can apparate home in less than a minute and a quick scourgify can have to you tip top in no time. Come back to bed."

Boot shook his head with a rueful laugh. "I can't. It trips the sensory wards when people use to many self charms at once. I can get away with apparating but I need to actually shower and dress at home."

Draco sighed and slumped back unto the sheets, fisting his morning wood and licking his lips. "That's too bad."

Boot froze in the process of putting on his pants, his mouth falling open as his eyes went a bit glazed. "Oh fuck you Drake."

Draco grinned wickedly, giving his shaft a slow pump. "I'd like to, Terrible. but you're being very disagreeable." 

Boot laughed and pulled his pants the rest of the way on, grabbing his shirt and shoes before coming over to drop a quick kiss on Draco's lips. 

"You are such a bloody tease.." he grinned into the kiss, reaching with his free hand to give Draco's shaft a pump with a twist; licking his lips when the platinum blonde moaned loudly and arched up off the bed. "Call me sometime."

Within seconds he'd bid his goodbyes and turned on his heel, apparating away and leaving Draco with a pressing need. Sighing, Draco headed to the shower and took quick care of his hard on, mentally gearing himself up for the day.

He was due at the MA offices in an hour or so to discuss the details of his return to the magical world. He knew it was only temporary and that would include numerous restrictions but he still felt that familiar excitement bubbling up inside of him.

He was a pureblood and he was a wizard. That would never change. Magic was literally in his blood and he'd never known a day in his life when it hadn't thrummed through his very core.

He'd been gutted by his exile, losing all connections to his family magics and ancestral foundations. He'd been set adrift in the wild magic of the earth with no anchor or port to find safety within. During those first days he'd too often wondered if Azkaban would have been more merciful.

He'd essentially had his own line stolen by the very ministry who'd condemned him to a life unmoored. The grim realization had left him bitter and angry for such a long time and if it hadn't been for Severus' last gift, Draco would probably be dead in a ditch somewhere, hopped up on narcotics or being whored out for his blood status.

He'd seen them before, the illicit pleasure houses where down on their luck wizards and witches fell into a doomed fate of being sold and resold to those who would use them for their bodies and the purity of thier blood.

One of his first cases at MOPAC had been to help crack down on one of the largest magical flesh trade rings in the UK. He still remembered vividly walking the scene after the joint SWAT/Auror team had raided the compound. 

There'd been a young girl there, barely fifteen, collared and chained to a bed and heavily pregnant. A runaway from one of the more ancient magical clans, known and coveted for their seer abilities. 

Even with her half breed status, her blood had been greatly desired and she'd been farmed out again and again to wealthy clients as a surrogate mother to potential powerful seer offspring. Examinations later revealed that it had been her third pregnancy. 

Some of the horror stories coming from that joint operation had left even the most stalwart of law enforcement officers sick with disgust and rage. Draco had been plagued with awful nightmares about that place for a long while.

He would never ever forget that there'd been a chance of him ending up in a place like that if he'd gone on as he'd been back then. Thankfully his favourite person in the world had been looking out for him even from beyond the grave.

In fact, only Severus fucking Snape could simultaneously succeed in securing a future for his godson and piss off the entirety of the wizarding government and Gringotts in one fell swoop. 

The ultimate Slytherin, Snape had laid out an iron clad contract with the same organization Terry worked for; his legacy as a half blood Prince giving him the right connections.

Due to his muggle father, Severus himself had never been able to truly access his mother's heritage. He'd never let that stop him from making a name for himself as a potions master though. 

The ministry had been all but licking their chops at the prospect of getting access to the Prince Family magics and holdings upon Snape's demise and it had cut them off at the knees when an exiled Draco had been named his magical heir.

It didn't help that the whole process of exiling Draco and stripping him of all magical rights and citizenship had ended up putting the new Prince Scion beyond their jurisdiction. It had been such a coup that Draco still laughed himself sick whenever he thought about it.

The laughter was always a bit bitter though. Apparently line theft was allowed when the government did it. After all had been said and done, Draco Malfoy, for all intents and purposes, was no more.

Draconis Lucian Prince had been born from the fire of wild magic and of the familiar and much missed weight of legacy settling around his shoulders; embracing him to the very core with a deep and abiding love and family that had him sobbing like a ickle babe within the ritual circle.

The news had exploded throughout the wizarding world, despite the Ministries best efforts to suppress the embarrassing situation. The public had clamored for answers, upset that not only could such an ancient magical ancestry be anchored to a magical exile but more so that the ministry had already painted itself into a corner and could not do much of anything to remedy or change the situation.

In the days and weeks after the ritual, while Draco secluded himself at one of the Prince estates under Blaise's steadfast care, several other countries had offered him citizenship and more; eager to have such a powerful legacy affiliated with them. 

He'd even had Percy Weasley show up at his door with a pitifully weak offer to have the exiled repealed by the whole of Wizengamot itself. Of course Draco would have had to offer certain reparations in return, as a sign of good faith. 

Draco had laughed the redhead right off the doorstep, cementing the decision he'd been contemplating ever since coming into his newfound power and influence. He'd decided to remain in the muggle world, perusing a life and career free from anyone else's opinion or expectation while appointing Blaise's mother as his magical proxy. 

The Prince line held two seats in Wizengamot, numerous properties and investments all of which Madame Zabini managed expertly. They had brunch at Zabini Manor twice a month to talk business and Draco always left feeling grilled more about his love life by the mother daughter tag team than about his holdings. There was no one he trusted more though and he was ever so grateful for having them both in his life. 

He perused the case files one more time as he tidied up his loft and dressed. A quick check of his potions and he was out the door. He got a coffee and some chocolate croissants from the small café downstairs and headed to the Yard to park his car and check in with Yasmeen.

Finishing off the breakfast and signing off of some of the cases on his desk, he grabbed his jacket and satchel and made his way to the George and Crown building where the MA offices were. Millicent and two of her young rookies were standing in front of a large white board with pictures and notes scattered all over the gloss surface.

She introduced him to the rookies, Mitchell and Epps. Mitchell was a tall, lanky chap with fading acne marks and a faint cockney accent. Epps was considerably shorter and of African descent, her dark skin glowing against her crisp white uniform shirt. In fact, both rookies were wearing the sharp uniforms of the muggle police, complete with tac vests, walkie talkies, pressed black slacks and neat hats.

Draco nodded at them both, diving right into their brainstorming session. They broke for lunch, ordering some tasty pub food from the establishment downstairs and got back to business soon enough. Soon after that Millicent dismissed the rookies to follow up on several leads and nodded towards her office.

They settled on her colourful, ultra-modern furniture with cups of hot tea and the magical scroll with its broken black wax seal on the empty desk between them.

"I've read it over several times." Millicent gestured at the half rolled parchment. "Even had an mate at the Law offices look at it. Under an unbreakable vow of course. It's a hideously complicated piece of magic. Crow did her homework alright. But, its air tight and does right by you on all fronts."

She picked up the scroll and unfurled it, her eyes skimming over the text before handing it over. "I also had it confirmed as authentic with the DoM."

Draco crooked a pale eyebrow. "Another mate I suppose?"

"At least I learned how to make friends in school Blondie. The rest of us didn't have stunning good looks and money to get ahead in life." Millicent mock glowered at him, leaning back into her chair. "A few of us from different departments meet every other week for game night. I let them win a few rounds of my hard earned cash and they grease the wheels whenever they can. It's called networking. 

She chuckled, "But then again, you were only ever interested in your studies, sex and social status. You should have been sorted into bloody Ravenclaw for all that people called you the fecking Prince of Slytherin."

"Hey now…" Draco pouted, his eyes shining with amusement. "There's nothing wrong with having priorities and knowing what you want at a young age. And at least two of the three paid off well though social status became a bit of a moot point in the end."

He took his time reading through the scroll, scouring the text with all of the caution, reserve and experience with legal jargon that he'd learned during the his trial by fire. It was simple enough to the discerning eye, laid out in ironclad terms that only needed his signature to take effect.

His presence in the wizarding world was to be privileged information, classified Top Secret and would only be revealed to those deemed relevant to the investigations. He would be in direct custody of Crow or Bulstrode during the entirety of his presence on magical ground. 

There were also a few clauses on jurisdiction and authority but basically he had a lot of wiggle room with which to investigate and between Millicent and Granger, he had a fair bit of access to the resources he would need.

It was a pretty sweet deal, all things considered, and Draco was almost ready to sign and get things started. He paused though, sitting back in his seat and glancing up at Millicent.

"What do you think about this?" he frowned, "Should I sign?"

Milli steepled her fingers and tapped them against her full lips. "I think it all boils down to if you can really handle being back in the wizarding world. And how much it is going to wreck you when you have to leave again."

She tilted her head slightly at his flinch. "Being exiled gutted you to the core, Blondie. Don't deny it. Even with the Legacy rites passed to you from Snape, your magic never really recovered from being severed from the magical bedrock of the nation itself." 

Draco looked down to see his own fingers twisting together in his lap. She was right as usual. Getting to the root of the problem with a brutal honesty that Draco both hated and adored about her as a friend.

He was a wizard without anchor. Cut off from the ancient magic that had been layered over the centuries by the thousands of witches, wizards and magical creatures who had been born and lived and died upon the land, their bones and dust and magic returning to the very earth that had birthed them.

When Draco was a boy, he'd never imagined the world shattering blow a magical exile could inflict on a magical being. The fact that Draco was as young as he was. If he'd been older or magically weaker, the process would have killed him.

Maybe that was what they'd all been hoping for. 

Ch. He swallowed bitterly at the thought. It had taken him ten years to get back on an even keel and he wasn't sure what being back in on warded ground would do to the equilibrium he'd worked so hard to establish.

On the other hand, the temptation of working with the DoM and having even partial access to the Goblin archives was just too strong for him to simply brush off lightly. The inner geek in him was railing too bloody loudly to be denied such an opportunity.

He glanced at the scroll, that innocuous slip of paper and cracking wax, and saw beyond it to a world of knowledge that very lucky few could ever experience. His fingers twitched as he weighed the pros and cons in his head as quick as lightning.

Then, with a sharp exhale and a lunge forward, he grabbed up the paper and a pen from Milli's desk, singing his name to the bottom of the document with a flourish.

"Sod it, " he huffed, watching as the signature turned gold and flashed with ambient magic. The parchment rolled up on itself and disappeared in a flack of black light leaving the two of them sitting in silence over a bare desk.

"Well," Milli nodded sharply. "No turning back now. That will be logged with the DoM in a few a minutes so we should be hearing from Crow soon enough."

She pushed herself out of the chair and grabbed her teacup, gesturing to the door and the small bullpen beyond. "Let's get to work then."

Draco blinked and looked up at the face of one of his closest friends. He nodded more to himself and her and stood, grabbing his own cup.

"Right. Let's get on it."

Because she was right. 

In the end, Milli was almost always right.

There was no turning back now.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> MA - Muggle Affairs  
> MPS - Metropolitan Police Service  
> CS - Chief Superintendent   
> MOPAC - Mayor's Office for Policing and Crime.   
> DMLE - Department for magical Law Enforcement  
> DoM - Department of Mysteries

 

 

Crow sent him a message to rendezvous at a local Chinese restaurant. He walked there quarter of an hour before time and  was not surprised to find her there already, waiting.

 

He was surprised though to see Granger in plain clothes, a smart black pants suit with a deep neckline that flatter her amazing rack. Her frizzy hair was braided to the front and puffed out into a groomed afro in the back, the light from the sconce behind her creating a halo effect in the darkened restaurant.

 

She had no discernable jewelry or nail polish and her shoes were sensible if not a little dowdy. He took a careful seat, ordering some tea from the waitress and settled down to watch her demolish a large portion of sticky dumplings with a single minded determination.

 

Millicent had been miffed that she hadn't been invited along to this pow wow but the Unspeakable had been clear. It has been essential to mission that Draco come alone.

 

Only when the plate was scraped clean that Granger looked up at him and gave him a not so subtle once over. He raised an eye brow in reply, blowing on his tea before sipping the hot liquid.

 

"A bit peckish were we?" he smirked as she leaned back and burped loudly. "Your line of work must have you eating your weight almost every couple of days to keep your energy up."

 

She rolled her eyes at him with bemusement. "You should see the lunch orders at the office. A good chuck of our budget goes to food allowance. You are still as sharp as ever. I had wondered for a while there after the trial."

 

Draco shifted uncomfortably before rallying. "Why wouldn't I be? I was exiled, not dead."

 

She leaned back and hung one arm over the back of the chair, her breasts shifting under the low neckline of the suit, revealing a smattering of freckles that went from her neck only to disappear in her cleavage. "I' figured for a sheltered pureblood like you, growing up so dependent on magic as you did; you'd rather death over exile. I'm glad I was wrong though."

 

Draco put his chipped tea cup down on the saucer with a clank, surprised at her easy confession. "You've changed Granger... grown up."

 

Granger shrugged. "We all have to grow up some time. We can't all stay who we were in school."

 

"All of us you say?" He scoffed, "Tell me again how Potter took the news of you bringing me in on the case?"

 

That brought a sharp laugh out of her. "I had to listen to him sulk into half bottle of fire whiskey. Don't talk for Ron. Good thing he doesn't know about my real job anymore or he'd have been round to my flat to rant and rave in two shakes of a thestral's tail."

 

"Thank the heaven's for obliviation, I suppose." he drawled.

 

She scowled at his words, draining her drink and pulling out some pound notes to drop on the table. "Don't get too smug Prince. I haven't let your knowledge of my identity go lightly. I need you for this case and can't afford to have your brain scrambled like pea soup just yet."

 

Draco blanched at the serious look in her eye. He nodded a bit shakily and breathed a sigh of relief when she seemed satisfied with his cowering and nodded in return.

 

She led him through the restaurant's kitchen, which smelled of old grease and fresh blood, to a small door to the back. Beyond it lay a small smoky room where men of different ages played Ma Jong and laughed coarsely.

 

Another door to the back of that room led into a tackily decorated room covered in cheap silk and awful Chinese gold knick knacks that looked like they came from a novelty shop. A heavy set woman stuffed into a cheongsam fanned herself uselessly with a brightly painted fan. She blinked her heavily lined, sharp eyes at them both and reached under her chair to depress a button.

 

A section slide out of the wall, revealing a fire place blazing happily.  Granger opened a small mother of pearl box on the fire place and pulled out to small cakes shaped liked dragons curling in on themselves.

 

"Floo cakes?" Draco boggled. "But how did… I mean… they said it couldn't be done. Ipswitch was all but laughed out of the ministry for the idea. Last I heard he was a hermit in a monastery in Spain."

 

"Not all of us were laughing." Granger grinned darkly. "And he's not in Spain."

 

Draco's mind clicked over those words as she instructed him that the cake had a pre-determined destination and he had to but throw it into the fire and jump in after and he would be taken to his destination.

 

He spent the floo ride with his mind twirling as much as his body and came stumbling out into plain room. The room was bare and brightly lit with a pair of ferocious looking gargoyles guarding the only door.

 

Granger pulled a cloak from her pocket, slipping it on and activating the charms on it. Suddenly, instead of his old classmate, an Unspeakable stood before him and he suppressed an involuntary shiver.

 

She pinned an obnoxious looking VISITOR badge on him and led him through the door. The gargoyles shifted to look and then sniff at his badge before turning back to their usual positions and he tried not to let his fear show on his face at having the great stone beasts with their sharp teeth and claws so close.

 

The ante room for the DoM was wizard space and he gaped openly at the endless view of the stars that stretched from the floor to the seemingly endless ceiling.

 

He stumbled and looked down, seeing nebulas and galaxies spinning beneath his feet. He looked up again and spun in place, his jaw dropping as the concentric rings of a bright blue planet came slowly into view.

 

The sheer stunning vastness of what he was seeing was mind boggling and left him utterly flummoxed, his brain skipping like a stuck record for a few seconds before rebooting with a faint smell of smoke.

 

He must have made some kind of whimpering sound because Crow grabbed him by the collar and began to drag him across the space. He put up a bit of resistance, wanting to stay in the room and study it forever; but her grip was strong and she all but threw him through a doorway that appeared in one of the swirling nebulas.

 

"Sweet Merciful Gaia" he breathed out, bracing his hands on his knees as he tried to pull in a deep breath. "That was… have you? Oh my Goddess."

 

He could tell Granger was grinning under her shadowed hood even though her voice was charmed unisex. "When we first start working here, we're allowed one week to sit in the room and study it to our hearts content. Only one week. After that it's business as usual."

 

"I don't supposed you get to share your research with outsiders?"

 

She shook her cloaked head. "Sorry. No can do. But I will tell you this though… the magical is horribly complex and absolutely brill." 

 

"Can I ask one thing?"  Draco took a deep breath and straightened up. Crow nodded.

 

"I may not answer though."

 

"Fair enough" Draco bit his lip and shoved his hands in his pocket, his thoughts quickening along his synapses like lightning. "Does it involve some sort of Mirror of Erised type of deal?"

 

Crow stilled for a long moment before slumping her shoulders with a gusty sigh. "It took me three fucking days to…. Oh fuck it all."

 

She turned sharply on her heel and stalked off, leaving Draco bite back a smug grin as he had to jog in order to catch up with her angry strides.

 

She led him down a long empty hall lined with doors of different sizes, stopping in front of one of them. The doorway was large and carved out of stone with ornate wrought iron detail. It took Draco a second or two to place the familiar looking door.

 

"This looks like my old vault door at Gringotts." he murmured absently.

 

Crow nodded, pulling out a black cloak similar to hers from within the shadowed folds of her robe. He made a delighted face, shrugging it on and feeling the cold slick of shadow as it crawled up his face and distorted his features.

 

He reached up into the hood, shivering in glee as the shadow chilled his appendages. Crow huffed.

 

"Don't get too attached. This is just a loan. We can't have anyone see you where we are going."

 

Draco chuckled. "Doesn't matter. This is fucking brill."

 

She turned to the door and ran her wand down the middle of the door, the iron curlicues parting in a series of clicks and clanks as the wand tip passed. The door opened in a muffled 'whomf' to reveal a stone corridor lit by flickering lamps.

 

A lone goblin dressed in an entire armor made of gold stood in the circular room beyond; armed to the teeth with bladed weapons. It tilted the its wickedly sharp spear menacingly toward them as they entered, only shifting back into parade rest when Crow said something in gobbledeegook.

 

The door behind them shut with a deafening bang and seconds later the room started shifting and turning until another, even more ornately carved stone door was revealed.

 

"Watch what you say very carefully" Crow whispered as they walked down another stone hallway. "The Goblin horde are already wary of wizards and even more so when access to their ancient archives are concerned. This case has them backed into a corner and that's some place no one wants them to find themselves."

 

"Then why are we even here?"

 

"They want to solve this case as much as we do, if not more. Having someone do an end run around centuries of goblin security has been a blow to their collective egos. They are practically chomping at the bit to clear this cluster fuck up."

 

"A large part of the reason they have even allowed you into their inner sanctum is your exile status. You are a wizard but not a citizen and therefore do not fall under the goblin wizard treaty. You are not beholden to reveal what you see or hear down here to the ministry."

 

"So…" Draco muttered as they arrive at a large archway. "Solve the case ASAP and don't piss off the entire goblin horde. Sure, easy peasy."

 

888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888

They were met at the end of the hall but another goblin, fully armored as well. This one was at least two heads taller than any of those he'd seen at the bank.

 

A gold helmet, carved in an intricate interlocking pattern covered most of his face though they could still see the gleam of his black teeth in the dim light. Scraggily locks of ragged hair hung limply from the back of the helmet and down the back brace.

 

Sharp knives and blades were secured all over its body in several beautifully made leather holsters, a gleaming battle axe slung across it's back. The goblin looked a strange mix of beautiful and grotesque and Draco wasn't entirely sure how he felt about it.

 

He'd heard whispers of a warrior class, a throwback to the goblin rebellions of the past. A shadow army ready to rise up against the arrogant wizards who'd once again grown fat and lazy on their magic. Of course the everyday wizard refused to believe that, as far as they were concerned, goblins were nothing but grouchy, greedy money counters.

 

The being spoke, his voice gravelly and low. His English was perfect though, just a hint of other worldly accent.

 

"I am Shadowskull. Son of Ragnok. Doyen of the Grimdigger Clasp. I am to be pathfinder today for the One Who Seeks Knowledge from the Horde. "

 

Goblin royalty, as far as they recognized that kind of thing. Being the son of the chief meant that Shadowskull would have had to claw and fight his way into a position of power.

 

Crow nodded deeply and Draco hurried to do the same. Before Crow could speak though, Shadowskull gestured at her with his spear. "You will stay here. Only the Exile can continue into the Keep."

 

Crow seemed taken aback, but, after a long look at Draco, nodded sharply and turned on her heel; disappearing down the hall they'd come from. Draco didn't look back at her. To do so would make him look weak look weak in front of the horde.

 

He was taken down a series of tunnels, each carved with ornate runes and pictograms, some of them inlaid with gold and precious gems. Random goblins populated the halls, sparing them nary a glance as they went about their business. The younger looking ones stopped and stared until they were noticed and not so subtly sent about their business by an elder.

 

The tunnels eventually opened out unto a massive cave, with a high carved roof that had flimsy rope bridges that slung from the cavern's walls to the giant stalactites that hung down from the ceiling.

 

Large circular platforms had been built around the hanging formations and Draco could see goblins buzzing in and out of the constructs and across the bridges. Glowing lights shone from large metal lanterns that hung from the ceiling from giant chains.

 

The floor of the cavern was littered with goblins doing what goblins did, working at stations, handling weapons, carting books and scrolls. Random everyday things that had Draco's gaze jumping from detail to detail, curiosity building in his throat like the burn of good whiskey.

 

At the far end of the cavern there was a raised platform carved right into the wall, a whole front of massive building climbing up the rock behind it with ornately carved windows and parapets. Banners of different colours and coats of arms hung above the platform, the largest hanging just a above a large table covered with food until it seemed to almost sag under the weight.

 

In the middle of the cave there was a large hole and looking down into it, Draco's breath caught at the dizzying depths. Along the sides of the sink hole, a long and winding pathway was carved, lined with doorways and fairly packed with goblins going to and fro.

 

He counted at least twenty stories down before the fire from the sconces became too dim to see. He gulped heavily and pulled himself back with a squeak.

 

"It's the bloody Mines of Moria innit?" he muttered to himself, chuffing softly. "What's to say there isn't a Balrog at the bottom?"

 

"No Balrog." Shadowskull said from his side, startling the blond. "Dwarfs dumb. Goblins know not to dig too deep."

 

Draco gaped openly then flushed at his own lack of control of his expression. Thank god for the cloak he was wearing.

 

"You read Tolkien?" he asked a bit incredulously,

 

The goblin shrugged and snarled, the closest thing he had to a smile. "Read muggle books to our young. Get good laughs at dumb wizards. Dumb humans. Cheer when Wargs come. When Uruk-Hai come."

 

Draco blinked. "Oh ok."

 

They make their way across the floor of the cave, coming up to the raised platform. Chief Ragnok was seated at the centre, a whole leg of roast beast in one hand and a tankard of a foul smelling liquor which slopped over the rim when he slammed it down.

 

"Present yourself Little Prince." he bellowed, masticated flesh stuck in his sharp teeth in ragged strips. "Let the Horde see the face of the wixen child who steps into the dwelling caves of the Stone Born Races."

 

Draco took a deep breath, reaching up to unclasp the shadowed cloak, breaking the unspeakable charm. He lifted the hood off his head and stared bravely at the Large goblin. Ragnok was the tallest by far, towering above all others by at least a head and a half.

 

Black cold and beady eyes stared right back at Draco, as if calculating his worth in gold bars. Draco kept his knees locked, shoulders straight and his spine stiff, his hands unclenched at his sides.

 

He was being tested, he was sure. It would not bode well for him to fail. He might find himself seeing the bottom of that great shadowed pit up close and personal. It's not like the ministry would be too concerned. He wasn’t a citizen after all.

 

After a while Ragnok seemed satisfied enough and bared his teeth in the mockery of a smile, more a baring of jagged black teeth. "Eat from my table. Drink. Upneassa! Daughter Mine! A tankard for the little Prince."

 

A goblin female, shorted that Shadowskull and dressed in battle leathers and half covered in small sharpened blades brought forth a jug of the stinky ale and an ornate goblet, slamming them both on the table. She poured the goblet full, slopping some over the side while Shadowskull pushed a chair under the blonde.

 

Draco fell back into the chair, eyeing the goblet with barely covered distaste. He swallowed heavily and tried to pull up all the Malfoy indifference he could scrape together. Feeling many eyes on him, he steadily picked up the goblet and held his breath.

 

The ale was oily and bitter on the tongue but he persevered, swallowing thickly until the chalice was empty. His stomach roiled in protest but he pushed it down by force of will alone, keeping any and all expression off his face as he slammed the goblet down on the table and wiped the greasy liquid from his mouth and chin with the back of his sleeve.

 

Ragnok stared at him with narrow eyes, no doubt taking in Draco's paling skin and the beads of sweat gathering at his brow. Finally he laughed, loud and echoing through the hall, and nodded to his son.

 

"Take the brave little Prince to the Archives. Tell that rascal Zyrzekt that he is goblin-friend and to see that his questions are answered."

 

Shadowskull bowed sharply and grabbed Draco by the arm, pulling him unceremoniously out of the cavern and into a smaller room, pushing him to sit down on a low stone bench.

 

Draco barely had time to say a wobbly thanks before a bucket was placed in front of him and he was vomiting up the foul liquid violently. He hugged the rough wooden bucket to his chest, stomach muscles straining as everything that wasn't nailed down came up and out.

 

Afterwards, he slumped against the stone wall, moaning softly as the bucket was taken away and a clay jug of cold water was handed to him. He took a large swig, washing out his mouth and spitting into the bucket several times before chugging the rest, water dribbling out the corners of his mouth and down his face.

 

He gasped for breath, running his fuzzy feeling tongue along his teeth and allowed himself to make a disgusted face. Shadowskull barked a laugh, a rusty gargling sound that echoed in the small chamber.

 

"You lasted longer than most, human. Father was impressed. Not many are called goblin-friend."

 

Draco sagged, resting his elbows on his knees and looking wearily up at the other. "Bully for me then."

 

The goblin tilted his head. "Bully… for you?"

 

Draco chuckled and shook his head. "A bit of sarcasm. Never mind."

 

A few minutes later they head down several more corridors and deep staircases to a vast library. The stacks were at least four stories high with thin rickety ladders for access. Some kind of complicated mirror system shone light through the whole place, revealing a cave system that went on for more than a half mile in each direction.

 

Several suit wearing goblins bustled near the entrance, desks filled with paperwork and modern wizarding lamps providing little pockets of light in the overall dimness.

 

As they went on and on further from the door, the books that lined the shelves became scrolls, which became rolls of loose parchment, then carefully bound books of wooden slats then stone slats.

 

Draco yearned to reach out and pluck something off the shelves, conjure up a comfy chair and read for the next two years straight. Yes, one could make a life time of study from this room alone, much less goblin culture as a whole.

 

Oh the books he could publish.

 

Zyrzekt was an old and squat goblin with a shock of white hair sticking out from his ears and nose. His head was as bald and shiny as a cue ball. He had beady white eyes, a bulbous nose and a rolled up lip that revealed a mouth of healthy sharp black teeth.

 

His mind was as sharp as a tack and before long he and Draco were delving into the old records like a couple of spelunkers. Shadowskull had commandeered a spare stool from one of the clerks and was leaning up against a carved stone pillar, looking bored and cleaning his jagged black teeth with a wickedly thin blade.

 

Zyrzekt had an acidly dry sense of humour that all old people seemed to get when they've lived long enough and don’t give a rat fuck anymore. He also had a tendency to slip from english into gobbledeegook frequently.

 

Draco ended up getting plenty of practice in the ancient language because every time he said something wrong or misunderstood, the old goblin would snarl and hit him around the head with an empty scroll handle.

 

And bugger all did that shit fucking hurt.

 

Shadowskull would chuff every time which irritated the shit out of the blonde but in spite of  their grouchy tendencies, he found himself fond of them both.

 

They visited the first of the stolen vaults via the carts, the old goblin squealing with glee at the deep plunges passed the newer vaults into the older carved areas.

 

Draco himself was clinging to the cart handles for his life, white knuckled as he tried not to throw up the water he'd drunk. Shadowskull seemed calm but Draco could tell from his harsh grip on the brake that he too wasn't having much fun either.

 

Draco dismounted with wobbly legs, soon recovering enough to see Zyrzekt and Shadowskull manually opening the heavy vault door. The wrought iron work was intricate and intimidating in a way that the newer vaults lacked. It was shaped in the form of a Yali, a part lion, part elephant creature from Indian myth. Records had shown that the Yali was the guardian spirit of the Ashok-Singhs.

 

The vault itself was mostly empty, most of the gold and valuable and untraceable jewels were long gone. There were a few pieces of furniture and some family paintings, also some weapons.

 

Draco examined everything carefully, taking out a magical camera that he'd borrowed from Crow. He wasn't allowed to take pictures of the horde or the deep caves but he could gather evidence from inside the vaults.

 

Zyrzekt concerned himself with the few scrolls that were left behind while Shadowskull examined and summarily scorned the heirloom weapons. Draco took time to sketch the scene, placing little yellow markers and taking pictures of fingerprints smudges and anything looking like recent traffic.

 

When he was satisfied, he looked up to see both goblins staring at him and his paraphernalia. The ride to the next vault was filled with him being grilled by a very curious librarian on the subject of forensics.

 

The Gasting-Leftage vault was more of the same, a few heirlooms left behind with little to no resale value. A few family paintings and charmed objects. This time Zyrzekt followed him around, observing carefully and asking questions on Draco's methods.

 

The Shwetz Vault was a newer one with a door that unlocked with a wave of Zyrzekt's claw. Draco felt overly excited for this one. He'd read all the clippings from the Daily Prophet on the infamous Spartak Valentyn Ruby and the ingenious caper that resulted in its disappearance.

 

His copy of the tell all booklet that some aspiring muggleborn mystery writer had penned had been read and reread until the spine had cracked and the pages filled with hand written notes.

 

He'd pestered both his father and uncle Severus with his theories and speculations for years after, the sheer audacity of the theft igniting his inner detective like a spark that would eventually grow into a flame.

 

He stepped into the vault with bated breath, his eyes taking in every detail. This vault was less empty than the rest, most of the gold still sat in mounds. There were some empty spots where the dust had been recently moved.

 

Draco took pictures and collected samples, moving carefully in a grid pattern. Whatever method their unsub was using to claim legacy treasures was still in the early stages.

 

There was a chance of setting some surveillance wards. Purely passive of course because, stolen or not, goblin magic recognized the unsub as the rightful heir and trying to stop them from claiming what was theirs was against goblin code.

 

He would have Crow open talks with the Bank about setting up the wards to observe and record so that they had a chance of finding out some clue about how the vault was being emptied.

 

They took the cart up to the library level, his ears popping from the sudden rise. He carefully tucked the evidence away into sealable bags, going slowly so that both goblins could keenly observe what he was doing.

 

Zyrzekt was doing so out of curiosity but Draco knew that Shadowskull was taking a note of everything so that he could report back to his father.

 

He carefully tucked the bags, his notes and the camera into the pockets of his cloak, patting himself down when he was ready to go. He was sad to say good bye to Zyrzekt, he'd come to like the old curmudgeon in the time they'd spent together.

 

He was even more sad to be leaving the library behind. Oh the sheer breadth of research that could done on the carvings on the pillars alone. The old goblin knocked him on the shoulder one more time with the scroll handle as a parting gift and said gruffly that he wasn't too bad for a surface dweller.

 

The blonde felt oddly pleased as Shadowskull lead him back to the great cavern. This time they skirted carefully around the raised platform even though the table was empty and the food all cleared away.

 

The walk back to the upper level was made in comfortable silence, Shadowskull only speaking when they got back up to the spinning stone room. The goblin stopped just before the door, watching as Crow paced the room beyond almost impatiently.

 

The warrior sneered at her, even though she could not see them past the lone goblin standing guard in the middle of the room.  He flipped a galleon at Draco, chuffing as the blond fumbled to catch it. Draco studied the medallion in the dim firelight, intrigued.

 

It wasn't an ordinary galleon, instead of the usually imprint that all galleons possessed, this one had a clan crest with some gobbledeegook words imprinted along the edges.

 

Draco inhaled sharply, looking up at a solemn Shadowskull.  A gift of gold from the goblin horde was a serious matter indeed. He clenched the large coin in his gloved hand, feeling the metal edges digging into his palm.

 

Turning to face the goblin directly, he gave a low bow of respect and spoke his words softly and carefully.

 

"Ghuul or huuch ogaar dhuul ac or okaalken dhach akhuuc daar akaager rharthaan" {May your gold ever flow and your enemies fall upon their inferior blades.}

 

Shadowskull's eyes widened in surprise before narrowing. He curled his lip and bowed in return, much to Draco's own shock. "Ghuul o okaalken rhuulkhaach kaakhaar daan har duun or zeluugec." {May you enemies' bowels litter the path to your victory.} You are hereby known as Goblin Friend to the Horde. Kekhaan Hekaan {Little Prince}. May your blade always be wet with the blood of your enemies."

 

Draco straightened his shoulders, standing tall as he nodded once more with deepening respect.

 

"May yours be as well."

 

With those parting words, he backed away from the golden armored goblin as showing the warrior his back would be a grave insult. He nodded to the sentinel at the centre of the room before joining Crow at the doorway.

 

She gestured impatiently for him to pull up his hood and he scrambled to do so, following her quick strides back out into the long hallway of doors. They rushed through the nebular room and Draco was delighted to see the blue planet from earlier was now front and centre above their heads.

 

He could just make out an ice storm on the surface when Crow grabbed his sleeve and yanked him through another hidden door. He stumbled into the strange new room and caught himself on the corner of n empty desk.

 

"What the hell woman?" He spun to face Crow. " Must you manhandle me so?"

 

She huffed, stalking around the desk to grab up some files, shuffling them uselessly. "I had to wait there for hours while you kipped off to your goblin playdate. Hours!"

 

Draco, shrugged carelessly, frowning at the agitated unspeakable. "I certainly didn't ask you to. Why didn't you just come back for me when I was done?"

 

"That wretched goblin watchdog refused to let me back in if I left through the door. Then I would have been stuck waiting in the hall until you came out." she gritted out through her clenched teeth."

 

Draco tilted his head. "Then why didn't you set up a spell to notify you when I came out into the hall? Then you could  have scooped me up before I could get into any mischief on my own."

 

Crow sputtered but could not come up with a sensible answer so she threw the papers down on the table and stomped over to a nearby shadowed alcove, snagging Draco's cloak as she passed. He let out a yelp as she all but dragged him into the shadows, flailing wildly as a cold deafening wind rang around his ears.

 

He was then jerked to the side, falling out into light and noise as he spilled ungainly unto the floor with a loud 'oof.' He scrambled to his feet, flaring the cloak as he'd often seen Severus do to intimidate his students; and rounded on the Unspeakable.

 

"What the fuck is your problem Crow?" he snarled , "Why are you being such a bitch? This is what you called being all grown up? It sure doesn't look like it. Was everything you said before just another load of gryffindor bullshite?"

 

He was breathing hard, trying to keep his famous temper in check. He was over this petty nonsense. Had been over it for almost ten years. He didn't have to put up with this shit if he didn't have to and he sure as hell didn't want to.

 

He was now about to tell Crow where to go stick it when a voice rang out from the door of the office they'd appeared in.

 

"MALFOY? BLOODY FECKING HELL!"

 

Draco groaned and pinched his fingers to the bridge of his nose. Goddess preserve him. Not the Weasely. Anything but that red headed wanker.

 

"Crow! What the fuck!"

 

And Potter too.

 

Fucking hell.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All my Goblin translations were done by the Common to Goblin Translator i found on the interwebs.


	8. Chapter 8

"You brought us to the DMLE?" Draco hissed at Crow, whipping up his hood and fastening the charmed clasp. "What in Hecate's name were you thinking?" 

It was too late for Weasely and Potter to be fooled but he was damned if he would let anyone else in the Auror Department see his face. Thank Lady Magic herself that the two Aurors had closed the office door behind them before shouting his old name. 

Crow's body language looked nonplussed and reasonably chastened but it didn't make him any less angry. The unspeakable quickly stepped in between him and the almost apoplectic redhead, pulling out her wand and threatening him with a stupefy if he didn't calm the fuck down.

Potter was standing back, glaring hotly at Draco as if his emerald gaze could pierce the charmed shadow of the hood. Surprisingly, seeing his childhood nemesis in the flesh after more than a decade called forth less emotion than he'd imagined it would. 

All he felt was irritation and a weary apathy that dragged on the elation he'd felt from his time with the goblins. He put his hand in his pocket and grasped at the medallion, anchoring his thoughts on the coin's carvings.

By the time the red headed menace had calmed down, Draco had had enough. 

"Take me back to Muggle Affairs. I need to report to Bulstrode."

His words drew their attention. Ron sneered.

"You don't give orders around here Malfoy."

"Prince" Draco corrected. He was ignored.

Crow shook her head. "I thought you wanted to check the archives in the Legacy Department."

Draco gritted his teeth and spoke, with much effort to stay calm and without vitriol. "If you really intended to take me to the Archives, you would have just taken me directly there. But it seems…" 

He gestured to the empty office. "…that the most direct way to the basement archives is through the bloody Auror Division!"

Potter stepped forward. "Hey you don't get to talk to an Unspeakable like that Malfoy."

"Prince." Draco corrected again. He was ignored again.

"Yeah ferret face, " Weasely, energized by Potter's words, put in his own two sickles. "You have no authority hereabouts, Malfoy."

"Prince!" Draco snarled, his hands fisting under his cloak. He looked at Crow who seemed to be happy to just stand there like a lump the same way Granger seemed to do back at Hogwarts.

Seemed all that talk about growing up meant utter shite when it came to falling back into old patterns. Well, Draco was not about to do the same.

"I want to leave right now Unspeakable Crow." he stated clearly and loudly. "You need to take me back to the MA. We can make other arrangements for the Archives."

Weasely snorted, folding his arms across his chest. "Snivelling little slytherin, slithering away on your belly again eh Malfoy? Just what I expected from a slimy snake."

Draco blanched under the hood, old stories of Potter's father and his friends tormenting "ickle snivellus' had made the rounds at both Hogwarts and the high society parties at his parents' house. His father often took cruel enjoyment in bringing them up in polite company.

It seemed that Potter also remembered the stories as he ducked his head with a rueful frown. Draco was gripping the coin so tightly now that he was sure that if he wasn't wearing gloves that he would be bleeding.

"If you want to leave so bad you can just waltz out of here through the DMLE and take the magical lift up to the street. But oh… you can't do that can you Malfoy?" the redhead sneered.

Draco's patience snapped.

"Mother fuck Weasley, it's Prince. How many times to I have to fucking say it. My name is Draco Prince. The Malfoy line in the United Kingdom ended a decade ago with the exile. Read up on your own fucking laws. You're an Auror for fuck's sake."

"And you…" he gestured at Crow, "Stop gawking and do your fucking job. And you…" he gestured at Potter "… well, I don't give a fuck about you. Haven't in ten years. Not about to start now."

Both Potter and Weasley looked highly insulted as Crow snapped out of her stupor and sprang forward to grab his arm, side apperating them immediately to another empty corridor.

This one was dimly lit and ended in a door with a sign that said ARCHIVES- Legacy and Magical Adoption.

"I thought I told you to take me to the MA." he growled. 

Crow started, turning towards him. "I thought you would still visit the archives."

"And I thought that you were better at listening than that. I said we could make other arrangements for the Archive and to take me back to the MA right now."

"But the case.." 

"I DON'T GIVE A FUCK ABOUT THE CASE" he roared, yanking his arm away from her grip. "When I signed your bloody agreement, I placed my safety, my very life in your hands. I have no ward, no protection, no bloody rights here. All I have is you and the backing of the DoM."

He took a ragged breath. "I can't count on you to protect me if as soon as you come face to face with Potter and Weasely, you instantly revert back to the petty, jealous Have-To-Know-It-All you were in school."

He paced away a few steps and spun to her. "And what the fuck was that back at the Horde? You think that just because you are unhappy that you can just haul me around and throw me all over the place like a sack of fucking potatoes? Where the fuck is your professionalism? Or is it because I'm still Malfoy in your mind? The slimy snake tosser you once punched in the nose?"

"Fucking Hypocrites, all of you." He shook his head, holding out his arm. "Take me to the MA now."

Without a word, she took his arm and shadow walked them to a secluded corner of the MA offices. The bullpen was empty but Millicent's office light was still on. He strode towards it, unclasping the cloak and ripping it off.

Milli looked up and watched in silence as he took the evidence bags and camera out of the cloaks pockets, setting them on her desk. He flung the black cloth unto the chair, ripping off the VISITOR's badge with a snarl and flinging it after the cloak.

She looked at Crow, standing in the doorway looking small and incredibly cowed. She wondered at what could have happened for the Dragon's legendary temper to have been roused.

She looked at Draco once more, seeing him staring back at her in angry silence, his hands shoved in his pockets. Mostly likely clenched into fists. His face was pale with tension and his eyes almost sparking with icy rage.

"I have to stop off at the office tomorrow morning. It may take me a bit. I'll call you."

Milli nodded, knowing not to poke the angry dragon. 

Crow wasn't so smart. "The case…"

"Fuck you. Fuck them. Fuck this bloody case." The blond snarled and spun around. "I'll be liaising solely through Bulstrode until further notice. You can direct all requests through her. She can get what I need from archives and any other magical space until it is absolutely necessary for me to be personally involved."

It wasn't a question. Crow nodded and stepped back as Draco made to leave. He stopped next to her and turned back to look at the shadowed hood, his mouth set in that cruel twist that reminded Milli scarily of Malfoy Senior.

"I'm not going to go back on my word and leave you in the lurch. I won't stop working on the case. I stand my word. " he smiled, sharper than a blade across the throat. "At least I know how to be professional." 

Milli could almost see Crow blanche under the hood and tactfully looked down at her work as Draco stalked out of the office. By the time she looked up again Crow was also gone.

Letting out a sigh, she grabbed her cellular and sent off a quick text. Siccing Blaise on him would be the best thing now. She always knew how to handle Draco when he got his dust up.

88888888888888888888888888888888

Blaise rolled over and grabbed her phone, checking her messages and frowning. She rolled off the bed and grabbed a dress from her closet, slipping it on and finger combing her hair. Grabbing her phone, wallet and wand, she stomped down the stairs and pecked her mother on the cheek before she could complain about the noise.

"I'm going out mum. Milli just texted me. Hurricane Draco's in a right mood and I have to go defuse the situation before he wipes out the whole village."

Lady Zabini tutted, waving her off. "Bring him back here. I will cook his favourites for dinner."

Blaise turned back with a skeptical look and her mother huffed. "Alright, Alright… I'll get Mufty to make his favourites for dinner.

Blaise laughed and turned on her heel, appearing in Draco's loft apartment and flopping unto the bed. 

A few minutes later, though much too quickly for someone by vehicle from Scotland Yard, she heard his car engine. Minutes later, he was stomping up the steps and bursting into the apartment.

"Bloody fucking hypocrites! Fuck each and every one of them up the bum with something hard and sand papery."

"Hmmm. Graphic." Blaise murmured, pushing herself up unto her elbows. "I like the picture you're painting. Do conitnue."

The blonde peeled off his shirt and jacket, kicking off his shoes and ripping off his socks, letting them all fall to the floor. "What are you doing here Zazi? I'm really not in the mood tonight"

He sounded more weary than angry and it worried her. Being back in the wizarding world seemed to have affected him more than they both thought it would, and it was only the first day.

She watched as he walked to the bathroom and turned on the shower. Frowning, she pushed herself off the bed and slipped into the small bathroom, sitting on the closed toilet seat. 

"Mum wants you to come round." she said casually, watching as he stood under the hot spray, letting the water leech the tension from his shoulders. "She says Mufty's been itching to make the Chicken Panchetta you like to much."

The blond only grunted, running his hands through his blond hair.

Blaise pouted, crossing her legs and kicking out idly. She sighed softly, checking her phone. She sent off a quick text to Milli for any clue to Draco's mood and she got back *Run in with the golden trio*

The brunette grimaced. The unholy trinity of Potter, Granger and Weasely was enough to put anyone off their feed. She looked at the blond again, who apparently was going to stay in the shower until all the hot water in his massive heater ran out.

Making up her mind, she began to talk.

"I got a call from Micheal Corner today, we got to talking at Rasputin the other night and he gave me the address of this lovely little book store. Such a charming little place, full of old and rare books… I have to admit that I spent more time and money there than I expected."

She chatted about her research, her latest virgin conquest, the hot gossip she'd heard about Dennis Creevy's current boyfriend cheated on him with mistress and how the two of them had eloped to Vegas and had left Creevy heartbroken and alone. How Susan Bones' one night stand had tried to blackmail her for political favours and had been laughed out of her entire Department. 

On and on she went, dragging up the most salacious news and titbits she kept in her retinue. She didn't stop talking when he finally turned off the shower, grabbing his towel and heading out to the living room. 

She talked as he checked his potions, making a few random notes in several different notebooks. She talked as he picked up his scattered clothing and emptied his pockets unto the bed. As he walked naked to his closet and pulled out his most comfortable pair of jeans and college sweatshirt, his blond hair damp and falling free around his face.

Tucking his wallet and keys into his jeans, he turned to her after he'd finished dressing and she stopped talking. 

"You want to call your mum and let her give Mufty a heads up?"

"Of course Darling." Blaise smiled at her best friend. "I'll ring round right now. Mum loves answering the telephone. She thinks it's charming how muggles communicate."

The blonde cracked a smile and Blaise considered it a small victory. 

"Good" he nodded, picking up a coin from the bed and playing with it idly. "I could use some good food and good company right now."

He looked up at the brunette, slipping the coin into his pocket. "And I love spending time with your mum."

Blaise eased off the bed and pulled him into a careful hug. "She loves spending time with you too, my love. I know that if either of us were ever at all interested in marriage, she'd have the contract written up in two seconds flat."

"Oh please Zazi…" the blond chuckled dryly, "She already had the paperwork drawn up years ago. She's just waiting for the both of us to get old enough to want to settle down because the only people we can stand for long stretches at a time is each other."

Blaise guffawed, hugging her friend tighter before pushing him to get his shoes. She sent a quick text off to Milli before taking his arm and apparating them to Zabini manor.

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He ended up staying the night, putting his phone on silent. If Milli wanted to get a message to him, she knew to call Blaise first. Everyone else could go fuck themselves. Sideways, upside down and six ways from Sunday.

He rolled over in bed, wiping a sleepy hand down his face. He was dressed in some sleep pants, a pair he'd always kept and the manor along with a dresser full of belongings that seemed to accumulate over the years. 

Blaise's mum smiled every time she saw the dresser, utterly convinced that one day, Draco and Blaise would get married and he would move from 'his' room to the master and that she would move to their chateaux on the Riviera. 

Blaise rolled her eyes every time the subject came up. Draco always chuckled. Fuck it, maybe they'd just give in and just marry each other one day. Pop out a few kids to carry on the Zabini and Prince Lines then take numerous young and eager lovers while publishing one research paper after another.

When his stomach made its annoyance known, he rolled out of bed, pulled on a ratty tshirt and headed downstairs for breakfast. The Ladies Zabini were in the sun room and they both smiled at him when he entered.

Life was good and Mufty's cooking was even better and he felt more on an even keel by the time Blaise made him a portkey back to his apartment, loaded down with containers of food and a whole rum cake.

Mufty really did know all his favourites.

His took his time in getting ready, texting Milli about some of his thoughts on the case and his idea for the passive surveillance on the Shwetz vault. He would give in his report on the visit to the Horde and its aftermath in person later in the day. 

This morning, he intended to spend in his own labs. The blood work from the autopsies was due today and he wanted to look at the data himself. That and sign off several cases being wrapped up by his department. He also had a meeting with the Chief Superintendent, to brief him on the progress so far.

He took his time in dressing, taking care to look his best in a soft blue sweater over a crisp white shirt and charcoal slacks. He shoes practically gleamed, so did his belt with his custom ouroboros buckle. 

Slinging his satchel over his shoulder and buying a coffee and muffin from the café downstairs, he hopped in his car and made his way toward New Scotland Yard.

It was time to get some real work done.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> MA - Muggle Affairs  
> MPS - Metropolitan Police Service  
> CS - Chief Superintendent   
> MOPAC - Mayor's Office for Policing and Crime.   
> DMLE - Department for magical Law Enforcement  
> DoM - Department of Mysteries

 

The next couple of days were spent between his own offices at the Yard and the MA. The  blood work on all of the victims had come back and despite thorough testing, they still could not identify the substance that seemed to be the cause of death.

 

Millicent had promised to reach out to a famous magical poison expert to help with the analysis and they were just waiting for the man to come in soon from a job in Africa.

 

Draco had been feeling especially grateful to Millicent the past couple of days as she'd really gone to bat for him, taking up the task of liaising with Crow and the rest of the ministry on his behalf and had been a real cast iron bitch on wheels.

 

It had been highly enjoyable to watch.

 

She'd also been setting herself as a buffer between himself and Crow whenever they'd needed to be in the same room together. It couldn't have been easy but Milli had always been a trooper when it was a cause she cared about.

 

Granger seemed contrite enough but Draco knew better than to trust that kind of thing blindly any more. She'd even taken to turning up at the MA in civilian attire, her freckled face a picture of humble regret, aimed especially to pull at his heart strings.

 

In response, he had been nothing but the epitome of cool and professional in the face of her weak efforts at penitence. Frankly, he couldn't muster the effort to try to mend whatever rickety bridge he and Granger had been building.

 

All of that Lion / Snake rivalry that had been the fuel of his teenage drama no longer held any interest whatsoever for him after he'd lost his entire family and had life as he'd known it abruptly ripped away in one fell swoop.

 

They did manage to visit the archives eventually, though Millicent had insisted on coming along this time. She'd ended up commandeering the visit, keeping herself deftly between Draco and the rest of the Ministry.

 

He was grateful for her efforts, being able to focus more on delving into the records than on who may have been pointing a wand at his back. Digging into the dusty files, they'd been able to trace the legacy lines of the targeted families. They'd  also been able to pluck out a few possibilities for potential line theft which they'd passed on for the Aurors to run with.

 

The staff of the archives had sworn magically into silence and nary a word of his presence had been breathed to anyone else. Crow was quick to set things in motion and though her solicitous actions eased their passage considerably, he still felt no different towards her.

 

Potter and Weasley were nowhere to be seen thank the goddess, all communications going between the MA, the DoM and the DMLE through official channels. It made Draco feel a lot safer, though he loathed to admit that to anyone other than Milli and Blaise.

 

They'd hadn't gotten far with the leads they'd dug up so far, just a long list of potential suspects that had been divided up between the MA team to follow up on but it was slow going.

 

The fingerprints he'd collected from the vaults and the crime scenes were all being steadily scanned and logged into the fingerprint database.  They'd even submitted them to the international database and were still awaiting report of any hits. There was a chance that their unsub was a foreign national or even a dual-citizen.

 

Draco had been bent over his microscope, putting the poison sample through another test when Yazmeen knocked shortly on the doorframe of his lab space. "Boss? You have a visitor."

 

"Yes?" he muttered absently, turning his face halfway towards the sound thought his eyes remained glued to his scope. "Who is it?"

 

"The poison expert we've been waiting for." Yaz took a step into the room, the click of her smart heels on the clean tile floor. "And he'd a looker too. A right hottie."

 

"At least let this one help us identify the poison before planning the honeymoon, won't you? " He could hear the cheeky smile in her voice and chuckled in response. "The chap's come all the way from Africa to give us a hand. He may need some time to rest from the jetlag before jumping into a torrid love affair."

 

"I don't know, I haven't had a torrid love affair for a while. Might just fancy one if I found the right person."

 

Draco froze. He knew that voice. He knew that bloody voice. He quickly swiveled on his stool, his face slack with shock.

 

"Bogbottom?" he blurted then flushed hotly at his faux pas, "Uh, Sorry. Just slipped out. Longbottom? You're the poison expert?"

 

Longbottom chuckled good naturedly at Draco's gobsmacked face. He was leaning against the door frame, all long lean muscle and sexy stubble on his strong jaw. His dusty jeans and crisp white shirt with the sleeves rolled up to reveal heavily tanned and tattooed arms. His face was also tanned, no doubt from the African sun.

 

"You cleaned up." Draco gave him an obvious once over, nodding in overt appreciation, "And got hot!"

 

Yazmeen giggled behind her hand, looking between both men. Longbottom's smile widened, so far removed from the quivering, stuttering boy Draco had teased so mercilessly during his early years at school.

 

"Guilty as charged." he smirked, "On both counts."

 

The man seemed more confident now, more comfortable in his skin and in his magic. Draco could feel the legacy magic exuding from Longbottom's very skin in deep pulsing waves. He'd always been sensitive about magical auras, a skill he'd taken care to play down in public, tucking it away as a secret advantage.

 

Draco grinned. He liked this cocky new attitude. Yazmeen tittered once more, excusing herself with soft words and bright, mischievous eyes. He knew that by break time everyone in the lab would be gabbing about their boss and the hottie expert. His shook his head at her retreating form then turned to the other man.

 

"As much as I would love to take you out for coffee and grill you about the last ten years, we need to get this poison nailed down ASAP. Have you been briefed by Bulstrode as yet?"

 

"I met with her this morning after I came in from the airport." The brunette nodded, hooking his bag and well-travelled leather coat on the back of a nearby chair. "Stopped off at home to shower and secure my samples then kipped off here."

 

He looked around the lab with a favourable gaze. "I love the set up you have here. Very state of the art." His hazel eyes twinkling with bemusement. "But it's always been the best for you eh, Prince?"

 

The Blond gave him a mock narrow gaze, crooking a pale eyebrow. He was oddly pleased that Longbottom  had addressed him by his proper name and not his old one. That put him leaps ahead of the rest of the former gryffindorks he'd been brought into close quarters with in recent days.

 

"You know me." he rolled his eyes.

 

"I'm not sure I ever did. But I'd like to. Get you know you that is." The other man winked boldly and came to stand close enough for Draco to smell his wonderful cologne. Feel the delicious body heat radiating off his suntanned skin.  "Maybe instead of coffee, we can make it dinner instead. "

 

"Well well well…" Draco drawled, clamping down on the sudden case of butterflies that had popped up in his gut. He gave the other man a slow and saucy once over. "You've certainly turned into a right forward bastard, haven't you?"

 

Longbottom shrugged, his broad shoulders drawing Draco's gaze. "I've learned in the past few years that life is too short and that I should just go for what I want."

 

Nodding slowly, Draco leaned in a bit and looked up at the taller man through his eyelashes, "Those are words I could certainly get behind."

 

He took note at how Longbottom blushed prettily under the crisp white cotton of his shirt. His chest and arm muscles bulging as he flexed his crossed arms, hazel eyes dancing in amusement.

 

"They are not the only thing you could get behind." Longbottom agreed, wiggling a mischievous eyebrow.

 

Draco cheeks pinked as his eyes widened at the other man's bold world. He blinked  averting his gaze and seeing movement out of the corner of his eyes. He glanced looked over Longbottom's broad shoulder to see all of his staff trying and failing to appear as if they weren't trying to shamelessly eavesdrop.

 

"Get back to work you Nosy Nellies or there'll be pink slips all around!" he shouted at them through the glass partitions that divided up the labs.

 

He huffed as his words did nothing but make the damn busybodies giggle and turn back to their work. No respect from the lot of them, he grumped to himself.

 

He turned back to see Longbottom grinning at him.

 

"Don't you start too, Bogbottom." Draco pouted, gesturing at a white lab coat and goggles hanging on a hook near the door. "Get geared up and we can take a look at whatever we are so far. Be prepared to get thrown into the deep end here. The higher ups are already breathing down our necks as it is."

 

"Only if you call me Neville." Draco blinked and looked at the man who was shrugging into the coat. "As much as I find those old nicknames hilarious now. I'd rather you call me by me given name."

 

"Um… ok…. Neville" Draco shifted, staring at the other man who was looking back at him just as expectantly.  The name felt good in his mouth and he gave the brunette a small and genuine smile. "Only if you call me Draco"

 

The cocky smile widened and hazel eyes flashed. "Deal."

 

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Chief Superintendent Davies glanced up as his secretary ushered Specialist Bultstrode in. He gestured for her to sit and she did, adjusting her charcoal coat and power red pantsuit  over shiny black practical heels.

 

He didn't offer any pleasantries as he knew the woman well enough to know that she didn't put much stock into such balderdash. She was a straightforward, almost shockingly blunt, officer of the law who never let her gender or her skin colour get in the way of bringing down the hammer of justice on those who sought to circumvent it.

 

It was a refreshing change of pace from people he was usually surrounded with, all thinking twice about their own ambitions. Not that he could blame them for it, being one of the upward climbers himself.

 

There was also that fact that she was a Magical. That's the name that'd been in the report floating around the upper echelons of the British Government. When he'd first been sworn into the job, his predecessor had taken him aside and read him in to his secondary set of Duties.

 

It had been a bit like the labour of Sisyphus , trying to work with Magicals and their utter refusal to step out of their comfort zone of arrogance and ignorance. It was like trying to tear down a brick wall with his face.

 

He'd almost chucked it all in with the Black hand Murders where those damn Magicals had gotten to of his officers killed with their utter stupidity. It was only when Bulstrode had stepped in and started whipping the fumbling 'Ohrores' into some semblance of shape that he'd been able to finally take a deep breath without pulling out his service weapon and killing someone in cold blood.

 

He was almost certain that his lawyer could have made a case for temporary insanity.

 

After feeling vaguely insulted and morbidly amused at her brusque manner and sharp tongue, he took a liking to her as a person and respecting her as a fellow law enforcement professional.

 

"We've called in an expert in poisons so we should know that the cause of death was soon. Fingerprints and DNA are being processed but there've been no hits nationally. I've liaised with InterPol, both muggle and magical branches to have them run internationally."

 

She crossed her legs, the vibrant red of her suit flashing under the folds of charcoal.

 

"Prince has been an asset to the case. There was a bit of an issue with him working with his old crowd but I took care of it. He's working out of his labs now. Support role only."

 

He glanced up at her sharply. "I didn't lend you my sharpest tool so that you could misuse him, Bulstrode."

 

She nodded shortly, her face solemn. "Noted."

 

He nodded in return, settling back into his chair and setting down his pen. He trusted her at her word. Also because Prince had already been in to see him and had reported much of the same to him already. Especially how well Bulstrode had gone to bat for him.

 

"And your damnable Ministry chums?"

 

Bulstrode raised a groomed eyebrow at his words but made no other outward expression. "I've got them doing the bulk of the running around. Chasing down leads that my Department can't handle. Busy work mostly, just to keep them out of my hair. They are more concerned about the safety of their gold and secrets. I just steered them in that general direction and they took off like nifflers."

 

Davies frowned. "Nifflers?"

 

Bulstrode twitched one corner of her mouth. "Little creatures. More obsessed with gold than dragons."

 

Davies felt his pulse jump. He felt a love/hate sensation whenever she mentioned mythical creatures casually because they somehow bloody actually existed. Bloody Dragons.  He wasn't sure what he would do if he ever came face to face with one. He hoped that he wouldn't just scream and pull his firearm.

 

He didn't want to find out first hand if he tasted good crispy with a side of ketchup.

 

"Very well" he felt proud at keeping a straight face. "Keep up the good work. I have been getting a lot of pressure from upstairs. A lot of interest is being shown in the old family money and lands being misappropriated within the realm. Even the Crown is showing passing concern. Work faster. Dismissed."

 

She nodded and left his office, un-phased by his blunt dismissal. She was not one to stand on ceremony and he was often grateful for it. Too bad she wasn't one of his. He could see her running the MPS one day, in a perfect world of course.

 

At least it would be hilarious to see others react to her forthright ways. He'd pay money good money to see her meet any member of the royal family. They'd either hate her bloody guts or find her as refreshingly charming as he did. Bulstrode was like that.

 

He shook off the thought with a dry chuckle and got back to his paperwork. Scotland Yard was not going to run itself after all.

 

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Millicent took the lift down to the Forensics Level, signing in at the front desk and pinning the Visitor's badge unto her charcoal coat. Yazmeen met her and escorted her into the labs where she could just glimpse Draco's blonde head bowed together with Longbottom's.

 

She been pleasantly surprised when he'd flooed into the MA that morning, fresh of his flight and still covered in African sand. Both Mitchell and Epps had gaped stupidly at the man who'd seemed to have stepped out of the pages of an adventure novel.

 

Tanned skin, sun kissed freckles, tall lean body with several tattoos peaking from beneath his fitted clothes painted a picture worlds away from the plump, herbology nerd she'd often growled at in school.

 

Sending her officers scuttling away with a sharp glance, she'd briefed Longbottom on the case, sending him off home to get cleaned up and no doubt stuffed to the gills with food by his grandmother.

 

The great Dowager Agusta Longbottom was a legend at Wizengamot, using her power and influence to support the Potter Agenda. She even wore that same vulture hat that creeped Millcent out something awful.

 

She'd gotten a new vulture after the old one, so imbued with enough ambient magic that it had come alive, ripped itself off her hat and threw itself unto the nearest fire with a terrifying death rattle and scream.

 

At least that's what Lady Zabini had told her over Sunday tea. It was said that some members of Wizengamot were still traumatized and flinched away every time they saw the new bird in pride of place, its black beady eyes rolling wildly in its skull; a soft warbling screech slipping from its twisted beak.

 

"Milli" Draco called out as she came to the door of his lab area, "We've narrowed it down to a few good options. We'll have to take a trip to Neville's lab to do the final tests but it's looking good."

 

She took in his smile and returned it freely. He was always so animated when he was hip deep in science. She listened as the blond explained their methods, Longbottom chiming in when necessary.

 

It struck her suddenly how comfortable they seemed with each other and it was all she could do to stop her eyes from going wide at the chemistry between them. Sweet Merlin, she had to tell Blaise about this.

 

Keeping the sly grin off her face was easy but she made sure not to look the blond in the eye for too long so that he didn't suss her out. She took out her phone, pretending to check it for emails and took a covert picture of the two of them.

 

Their body language practically screamed attraction and a comfort within each other's spaces. They were leaning into each other, even touching casually which Draco almost always never did with people he wasn't familiar with.

 

Satisfied with their progress, she bid her good byes and left. It wasn't until she'd signed out and was riding the lift that she sent the picture to Blaise before dialing her number.

 

She winced as Blaise answered the phone with an unholy screech, shaking her head at the other woman's antics.

 

"Good grief Zabini!" she growled as the lift doors opened and she stepped out into the lobby. "Calm yourself and put on the kettle. And get Mufty to put out some of those yummy scones she makes. We need to have a meeting."

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love tattoed Neville!!! He is just so sexy.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Unsub - Unknown Subject - the bad guy.

Neville doesn't take them to Longbottom Manor, thank the Goddess, but to his own little garden cottage via side along apparition. Draco didn't know if he had enough wits about him to cross blades with Agusta Longbottom just yet. Or even probably ever . She'd terrified him ever since he was a child, with her gimlet eyed glare and horrid vulture hat. 

She'd pinched his cheeks hard at a party one time bringing instant tears to his eyes with her gnarled hands and sharp nails. Lucius had acted quickly, quickly whisking him away from the horrible crone while Narcissa stayed behind, her impeccable hostess smile frozen as her eyes burned with rage.

Lucius had spirited them to his private study, using an embroidered handkerchief to dab at the broken skin, his own frosty grey eyes livid at the droplet of blood that pearled on Draco's damask cheek. He'd then gently touched the tip of his wand to the wound, golden sparkles trickling over Draco's skin and easing the pain.

It was one of the few times in his youth where his father had been a dad before a pureblood lord. He'd then gently wiped away the few tears that had escaped from his son's eyes and shuttled him off to the kitchen for a sweet treat. Draco still remembered the barest whisp of a kiss his father had bussed against his forehead before sending him off with a swat on the bum.

It was only during his third year in school that he'd heard of the series of devastating blows the Longobottom Estate had taken after that fateful party. Some of it felt like Lucius's anger but most of it smacked of his mother's icy vengeance. 

Their families were never officially declared rival houses but the animosity between them coloured all of their actions, politically or socially, nevertheless.

Neville's cottage was where he kept his personal library and potions lab, keeping a thriving garden and several greenhouses scattered across the grounds. A practical eden of vibrant green and riotous colour. Draco had spotted and identified at least a dozen rare plants growing wildly along the paved path up to the quaint cottage.

There was a walled off section, shaded by a huge tree with branches that spread wide and threw a shadow over the whole plot. There was a wrought iron gate and a sign that said 'Beware- Poisonous Plants grown here by permission of Ministry of Magic."

They passed under a wooden archway draped with pink and yellow wisteria, their gentle perfume wafting through the fresh country air. Draco was utterly charmed by the place, fascinated by the gardens and the cottage itself.

"The manor is for family wealth, "Neville admitted as he pulled out an actual iron key and unlocked the front door. "The grand library, the family potions lab and greenhouses. It's okay… more than okay actually but I kept seeing my parents there, everywhere I looked I would see them. Gran was worse off, all she sees anymore are old wights in the halls."

"I'm sorry about your mum and dad." Draco murmured as Neville took his coat and hung it on a charming coatrack near the door. "I heard about their passing. The Prophet did an article about their lives as heroes. It was very tasteful I thought."

Neville paused then nodded with a bittersweet smile. "Thanks. I think it was tough on Gran more than me. I never really knew them but for the stories she told. Creevey did a good job with telling their story. Made them out to be real people instead of just as untouchable heroes."

"Anyway…" he ushered the blond into the rustic kitchen with its bare stone walls and distressed wood furniture. There was a large iron potbellied stove and an open fireplace with a built in spit. It was dark and unused, most likely as the brunette had been traipsing around the dark continent for a while. 

There was a narrow staircase leading up to what Draco could guess was the bedroom and bath. "I only go up to the manor to visit Gran or grab a book I don't have. Otherwise, if I'm not abroad, I'm here at Wayside."

"It's lovely." Draco said, taking in the open concept floor plan filled with sturdy wooden tables filled with cauldrons and other potions paraphernalia and shelves almost bursting with books and interesting artifacts. Draco walked along the shelves, running his fingertips over the spines, his grey eyes sharp and taking in every detail.

He lets his attention get snagged the various artifacts tucked between the book like exquisite hidden gems. There was a brass ring in a velvet lined box he recognized from the Shipwreck of the La Belle, a Ceramic Roller seal from 1000AD Ecuador, a delicate miniature Boxwood carving in the shape of a locket and was that…?

"An Asa Mask by Chidi Okoye." Neville grinned, leaning against the book shelf, "I got it on my trip to Africa. Gorgeous isn't it?"

"Beautiful workmanship." Draco breathed, his fingers lingering mere centimetres from the detailed bronze face mask. "Masterfully made."

He looked up, startling a bit at seeing Neville so close. Their eyes met and caught, something sparking between them. The brunette was close enough to feel the heat of his body, the smell of his cologne. Draco felt ensnared, pulled in by the other man. 

His eyes dropped down to Neville lips, licking his own absently as he watched them part and twitched into a smile. The brunette groaned and laughed huskily, drawing Draco's gaze back up to his eyes. 

"You really are a dangerous one, aren't you?" his voice was low and made Draco's stomach flip flop. The blond gulped, taking in a deep breath and trying to shrug nonchalantly. 

"I've always been dangerous. Don't you know that everyone in the snake house have been poisonous from birth?"

Neville gave a sly smile and leaned in until his breath brushed against Draco's pale cheek. "I guess its lucky that I'm trained in handling the really dangerous ones innit?"

The blond laughed, surprising himself at his own candor. Embarrassed, he looked around the room, drawn to the dried herbs and other ingredients neatly sorted and stocked around the room. 

"You grow your own Feverbrew and Horehound?" he spun excitedly, picking up one of the bundles of dried herbs and sniffing it. "You even have Angelica. I've been trying to get my hands on some for ages but my suppliers have been out of stock for the past few months."

The brunette came to join him at the table. "Severe winter wrecked most of the local supply and to bring it on from abroad is way too pricey for most potions makers. I have a couple of plants in the greenhouse. I could trim some for you if you like."

Draco jumped up and down on the balls of his feet before stopping himself abruptly and flushing pink. He cleared his throat, blinking rapidly and turned back towards the work table. "I'd like that thank you."

Neville is kind enough to turn away, changing the subject to the tests they were going to carry out for the case and pulling out various cauldrons and other instruments. Draco, grateful for the chance to himself, shook his head and gave himself an imaginary slap to the back of the head. 

Get a hold of yourself man, He scolded himself hotly, You might as well jump him and climb him like a tree for all the bumbling you're doing. Like an ickle school girl with a crush you are.

Fortunately, neither of them have cause to mention it again as they start into the tests soon after. Hours passed with mincing, measuring, slicing and crushing, keeping check of precise timing and counting stirs clock wise and counter clockwise.

It was full dark by the time Neville sat back on his tall stool and gave a gusty sigh. "Well fuck me sideways."

Draco's mind stumbled at the muttered words and had to wait a few seconds for it to reboot. He dropped his pen onto the notes he was making and looked up. "What is it? Have you found something?"

"I think I have." The brunette huffed a relieved laugh, gesturing at the potions which had turned a bright blue. "Encephalartos hirsutus with some Rhizanthella gardneri mixed in for good measure."

The blonde's mind raced as he tried to place the names. "Venda Cycad?" his brow crumpled as he thought hard. "I'm not familiar with the other one."

"Western Underground Orchid." Neville got up and stalked over to his overflowing shelves, plucking a thin book from the stacks. He brought it over to Draco, flipping through the old, typewritten pages and ink sketches. He stopped at one particular page showing a bisected plant with pink water-coloured blooms.

He strode back to the shelf, plucking a thicker tome, flipping the pages to show the blond a picture of a wide, trunk less palm with three green pine cones growing from the centre. 

"Both are extremely rare, the Cycad grows only in South Africa’s Limpopo Province and the orchid only in Western Australia. They are both deadly by themselves but together, they are truly frightening."

They floo to the MA, where Millicent and Crow were waiting. Crow showed no outward reaction to Neville being there so she must have briefed by Milli. Neville went quickly to the desk near their case board and pinned up some magical copies they'd done up at the cottage.

Draco passed their notes to Milli to go through as he went to stand near the board at Neville's side. He gestured at the other man to begin, as it was through his expertise that they'd gotten this break. The brunette gave him a oddly assessing look before turning to the other. 

"The Killer used a mix of Venda Cycad extract and the bloom of the Western Underground Orchid. Both are deadly in their own right but together, they are something else entirely. Cycad when distilled can cause Actinomycosis which is a bacteria which penetrates soft tissue, even bones sometimes and causes swelling among other things."

He indicated to the other sketch. "The orchids blooms, when crushed and mixed with doxy tears, produces an allergen which causes Anaphylaxis, its fast acting and causes itching, swelling, difficulty breathing as well as a rapid heart rate."

Draco took it from there, "Together they can bring about a severe case of Acute Uvulitis. The victim's uvula swells abnormally until it blocks the traychea completely. This process takes about twenty minutes and those minutes are agonizing. It's a horrible way to go."

Neville nodded. "We think that the poison was geared to give the unsub time to do whatever ritual it takes to secure the line theft. We're not sure how the ritual works but that's more for the DoM to chew on."

He gestured at Crow who was studying the file. She nodded. "This will be of great help. Thanks Nev."

The brunette crinkled his brow and nodded slowly. Millicent walked up to the board. "Now that we know how, all we need is the who."

Draco stepped next to her. "We may have a lead on that." he turned to Neville and grinned. "Tell her Hot Stuff."

The taller man grinned back, missing how Crow startled at the familiarity between the two men. "Those ingredients are not only hard to find but difficult to work with. I called around to the few suppliers capable of bringing in these plants and they gave me a list of about five names. Add to that the level of Potions mastery needed to work with the stuff, we can shave off a few names leaving us with a manageable suspect pool for you guys to run with. "

Millicent paused, watching the man sharply before smiling a truly leonine grin. "Nice work Longbottom. We'll make you worthy yet."

Neville tilted his head in confusion but Draco froze, staring at the back of his friends head with wide eyes as she turned, caught his gaze and smirked evilly. Panic rose in his head because when she got that look, it usually meant nothing good for him. Or for anyone else for that matter. 

He met Neville's concerned gaze over her shoulder and almost felt pity for the poor man. Surely Milli had something in mind for them both and she no doubt had dragged Blaise into it. Still, Draco wasn't about to go down alone and seeing Longbottom getting dragged over the coals alongside him would be a welcome comfort.

Hey, he may not be a spoiled twat anymore but he was still a Slytherin at heart.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> MA - Muggle Affairs  
> MPS - Metropolitan Police Service  
> CS - Chief Superintendent   
> MOPAC - Mayor's Office for Policing and Crime.   
> DMLE - Department for magical Law Enforcement  
> DoM - Department of Mysteries  
> FOB - Forward Operating Base  
> Unsub - Unknown Subject  
> CI - Criminal Investigator

Draco wasn't sure how he'd gotten home. Which was really bad because he'd suddenly found himself parked in his garage. He remembered leaving the MA after another brain storming session with Milli and Crow. Neville had taken his leave soon after the presentation as he was due to visit his gran, tucking his phone number into Draco's front pants pocket with a wink and a smile.

He had felt both women watching intently as they'd interacted but he was sure that their reasons were very different for doing so. By the time he'd left and taken the rail back to where his car was parked at the Yard, his mind had been a whirligig of emotions.

He sighed heavily and got out of the car, taking the private back step up to his loft. As he stomped up the wooden stairs, anger seemed to be emerging as the strongest emotion, blotting out most of the rest. He dug his phone out of his pocket and pressed one on the speed dial. Blaise hadn't even had time to greet him when he blurted.

"I need to go somewhere very loud and get very drunk."

Blaise must have heard something in his voice because she swallowed back anything else she'd planned to say. Her next words were soft and steady as if talking to a skittish animal. He loved and hated how she knew him so bloody well.

"Give me ten minutes."

They got to Rasputin, because of course they go there. The dance floor was pumping and pulsing with red strobe lights like hot blood pumping crimson and steaming from the vein. He waded right into the thick of it, leaving Blaise to go get her usual booth or not. He didn't come here to mingle, he came to get out of his own mind.

Everything was hot writhing bodies, glistening with sweat and music so loud he could feel it in his very bones. He turned and twisted with the rest of them, his arms and hips and legs following movements that come naturally. 

Hungry hands and eyes and lips tried to tempt him, they reached for him , wanting him but he's not here for that. He was like the wind, elusive and wild and free. Felt but never held. He let them grind on him, hot and heavy hands on his hips but they don't stay, he doesn't let them stay.

He let his head fall back as the DJ ramped all their hearts a beat higher. It was like euphoria. Higher and higher until finally, blessedly; his brain reached its saturation point and something clicked loose.

Then there was only beat and the rhythm and he let it take him away.

He blinked back to himself surrounded by quiet conversation and laughter. His head was pressed against a soft, sweet smelling bosom but as Blaise was sitting on the couch across from him, he knew it wasn't her wonderful breasts his cheek was smushed against. 

The boobs under his cheek shook with laughter and he hummed against it. He recognized that voice. 

"Bones" he said but it came out more like "Brns"

She laughed again. "Looks like someone's back amongst the living."

Soft fingers were running through his hair so he made a soft satisfied noise and snuggled closer. Several people started laughing so he raised his heavy arm and casually flipped them all the bird.

There was a warm hand on his hip and a soft open mouthed kiss pressed to the side of his neck. A voice murmured hot and wet against his skin "What's got Drake the Snake in such a sorry mood tonight?"

Hm. Boot. He smelled nice too. Blaise snorted, her the ice in her glass tinkling as she raised a toast. "Ickle Drakey-poo has a crush on a Gryffindor."

"A Gryffindork?" Terrible gasped behind him, "Not Potter I hope. Merlin forbid our boy be gagging after that condescending asshole."

"Hey," Creevey protested with a laugh. "That condescending asshole is my friend, Boot."

Bones snorted, her bosom heaving wonderfully. "At least you don't deny that he's a condescending asshole."

Creevy made a rueful noise. "I know how to pick my battles"

"it's not…" Michael Corner frowned from where he was sitting half in Blaise's lap. "it's not the weasel is it?"

Everyone around made gagging noises. 

"Ugh Corner" Blaise slapped at his arm. "I almost threw up in my mouth. It's Longbottom, you wanker."

"Ooooh, he is a proper hottie isn't he?" Bones shifted and Draco's face settled in her cleavage rather nicely. "He really grew into his looks that one."

Boot squeezed Draco's hip, rubbing his thumb against the skin above his belt. "He grew into his buck teeth as well I imagine."

"Don't be jealous Boot" Blaise drawled, draining her glass and signaling for another. "…you can still get in a good cocking or too before he goes off the market."

"Oh fuck you Zabini" Draco could hear the laughter in Terrible's voice and felt a lean body drape against his back. "I'm not jealous, just irritated. My position at the company doesn't give allowance to have any kind of relationship right now. Maybe in a few years. But by the time I'm free he'd already be snatched up by someone else."

"Aw Poor wickle Terry" Corner teased in a dry monotone, "Your job only lets you fly around the world in style, makes gobs of fucking money and have as much commitment free snatch and cock as you can shake a wand at. We all bloody feel for you mate."

Boot laughed, shaking along Draco's back. "Yeah, ok. I get it."

"I don't understand though." Creevey wondered aloud, "Nev's a fucking 10. Why is Prince so out of sorts?"

Blaise grinned and Draco almost wanted to get up and tackle her to the ground. Almost. He stayed where he was through. Bones rack was too comfortable to pull away from.

"I am going to let you guys in on a little secret. The famous Ice Prince of Slytherin's one true Kryptonite."

The others leaned in. 

"Kinky sex."

"Parsnips"

"Muggle Arithmetic" 

"The dichotomy of good and evil."

They all paused and looked at a slouching Marissa Edgecombe as she nursed a White Russian in a nearby chair. She stared back at them through her limp bangs as if daring one of them to start something. Anything. 

"As I was saying…" Blaise cleared her throat awkwardly, sharing a look with the others before taking a healthy sip of her own drink. "… my boy here has an extreme case of the 'feelz'. "

"Feelz?" Corner frowned. "Is that like hives?"

"Yes, emotional ones. Especially when it comes to relationships. Longbottom's our boy's head turned but good." Blaise laughed, shaking him almost off her lap. " It seems that Slytherin's Ice Prince might be getting all hot under the collar. His wham bam thank you ma'am manifesto has been compromised. "

Draco turned his head towards his best friend's voice. "I hate you Zabini. I am not compromised. I'm Draco fecking Prince Dammit. Not some ickle school girl with a crush." 

Terrible chuckled against his neck. "Methinks the lady doth protest too much."

Draco growled and bucked him off only for the slag to laugh louder and drape himself across the blond's back once more. And the others just laughed along at him, the fuckers. This was a serious situation for Hecate's sake. 

"I hate you all." 

He growled and turned his face back into Susan Bones bosom. Despite his ire with present company, there was no need to look a gift horse in the mouth. After all, she did have quite the spectacular chest. 

 

88888888888888888888888888888888888888888

Millicent took time in strapping on her TAC vest and securing both her Firearm and her wand before shrugging into her set of dragon hide battle robes. It wasn't blood red like the Aurors but a stylized patchwork of deeply dark browns and greys. The colour scheme was better for losing herself into a muggle crowd or sneaking around in the dark.

An ex lover once told her that a solid black coat was shite for reconnoitering because nothing that colour and size occurs in real life, whether in the city or in nature and that the eye caught on to something like that moving much faster than people actually thought it did.

He'd been a reformed master thief, now working for MI-6 and after sex he'd liked to talk about his old jobs and give her tips and tricks to the trade as they shared a cigarette. They still had lunch whenever he was in the country and kept up their friendship through randomly sent emails.

She checked her sensible shoes and thick wool slacks, pulling at her maroon turtle neck to settle it under the vest. Her ebon hair was swept back into a bun and she'd secured all her jewelry at home before coming.

Mitchell and Epps were nearby with some of the gents from SWAT, dressed in all black and fidgeting nervously with their gear. It was their first time on an assault team and even though the joint team from MA and SWAT were just here as back up for the DMLE and DoM, they were still excited at being there for what could be the culmination of their hard work.

They'd been able to run down the names on the short list Draco and Longbottom had provided, crossing off all other names one by one until only one remained. It had been the break that they needed and everyone was pleased to finally have one of the last pieces of the puzzle.

The DMLE and DoM would be taking on the brunt of the work now, the MA having done their part in catching the Squib Killer as the Prophet had taken to calling him in the back pages of their rag. 

It had pissed her off something awful to see that someone from the ministry had leaked information about an ongoing case. It had made her even more angry to see it being treated as a puff piece stuck in the back pages. A titbit for magical folk to sniff and titter at before reading about puffskin shows and advice columns. 

As if squibs were just some kind of foreign concept. A kind of circus attraction. Like the endangered Willy-Woos in New Zealand that let people sent a couple of sickles to in the post and get back a picture and a numbered certificate to make them feel like good people.

Crow and Potter were in a pow wow across the empty field, FOB for the assault a half mile from the target's house. Red dragon hide and black shadowed cloaks milled around the field like ghosts in the early morning mists. 

She nodded to her people and strode over to the small gathering. Potter was laying out the plan for the joint taskforce, gesturing at a blue print of the house laid out on a conjured table. 

She stood at the back of the crowd as listened. Potter, for all of his asshole tendencies, was a good leader and tactician. Weasley was at his side, his usually stupid looking face was solemn and attentive. Crow had two other Unspeakables at her back, a few more milling around at the perimeter. 

Soon enough, they got the go-ahead to proceed and the mission was a go. The house was as normal as any other. A quaint country manse with an un-kept garden of flowers and a broken birdbath.

The red and black robed figures surrounded the house, covering all points of entry before a signal from Potter had them all bursting in. There was flashing of spells through the windows and muffled shouts and she signaled her team to be ready. 

One of the Unspeakables came out and signaled them in. With Mitchell and Epps at her six, she carefully stepped into the house, stepping slowly and carefully as to take in all the details.

She frowned at the number of Aurors stomping about and pushed down her irritation. So much for evidence collection. They rest of the group was in what looked like a study, surrounding a large armchair with the Gasting-Leftage coat of arms. 

In the chair sat a withered man, he looked to be naturally around forty years old but was as gaunt and drawn as a hundred year old. His cheat was heaving with laboured breaths and his eyes rolled in their sockets. His hands were clawed on the chair arms, the fingernails cracked and bleeding.

Millicent drew in a sharp breath at the sight as a healer hurried up to the man's side. Potter looked shaken and Weasley's face was a portrait of disgust. He gestured at the unfortunate sight. 

"What the fuck happened to him?"

Crow stepped closer, her wand out. The healer stopped her before she could cast a spell. "Don't. His core has been strained to the point of shredding. It's like nothing I've ever seen."

The second shadow cloak to the left stepped closer. "It must have been the rituals. That's why he had to wait a year between them. Carrying all those legacies himself must have been taxing."

Millicent frowned with thought. "We thought he was being careful not to be noticed. Living on the money until it ran out then choosing another victim."

The shadow nodded in agreement. "Maybe a bit of both."

She turned to Crow. "What now?"

Crow looked at the man who was being gently lifted unto a stretcher. "We'll take him to the DoM. We have healers there who can deal with this." She looked around the study, filled with books and other knick knacks. "We'll confiscate everything else too. He must have notes dealing with the rituals."

Mitchell snorted softly from behind Millicent, sharing a look with Epps and mumbling under his breath. "Well, he’ll never be see the light of day again. So much for a murder trial and the carriage of justice."

Millicent shot him a sharp look and he pantomimed zipping his lips while Epps ducked her head, biting back a giggle. Milli swallowed a sigh, silently agreeing with her second. There was no way that this was going to muggle trial. 

As long as the man was alive, the DoM was going crack open his skull like a nut and scoop out his secrets. Both the ministry and goblin horde were highly invested in how the man had done what they'd been doing to centuries in secret. 

It was a bitter end and she wondered just how Davies was going to react. At least she could sign off on the case as being solved, putting the suspect down as being killed in the raid. It wasn't as she would want but it was as much as she could do without fighting a war she wouldn't win. That was more Gryffindor Modus Operendi. 

Taking one last look at the scene and huffing in dismay as any valuable evidence was stomped on by wizarding boots, she led her people out of the house and away from the Gordian knot Potter and Granger had to deal with now.

As they trooped back to the FOB, she pulled out her cell and sent a text to Draco, letting him know that the unsub had been apprehended. 

Someone called her name. She turned. It was Granger.

She motioned her people to go ahead, surprised and oddly pleased when Mitchell and Epps stood their ground defiantly. They were no fans of Crow and were wary of her being around their boss. Millicent narrowed her eyes at them and Epps finally sighed, hitting Mitchell on the arm and gesturing for them to leave.

Once they were alone, she turned back to face Crow. "Was there something you needed?"

Crow faltered. "About Draco…"

"You mean CI Prince?" Millicent asked flatly. "Have you signed off on the Temporary Pardon as yet? It needs your signature to validate the contract as fulfilled."

The shadowed figure faltered and nodded. "I already signed off on it this morning. Copies have already been filed with the DoM and Legal. Dra…. Prince will be getting his certified copy by the end of day."

"Good." Millicent nodded and looked back to where her crew were waiting, all of them staring right back at the two women. "Anything else? I'll write up my report and tie up any loose ends with Scotland Yard and send cc you a copy."

Crow seemed to want to say something more but seemed to decide against it, nodding one more time before turning back towards the house. Milli watched her go for a few moments before turning on her heal and stomping towards her team.

She didn't have time for the other woman's bullshite. If she wanted to make peace with Draco, she'd have to woman up and do it herself. Millicent was nobody's messenger owl.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> and this is it. the final chapter and epilogue. it's packed with lots of stuff including our claim to the NC 17 Rating. yummy smut. 
> 
> Please note: Hermione does a bad thing and Draco calls her a bad name in this one. Be forewarned.
> 
> I have decided to do a sequel and i already have some ideas. the meeting between Neville, Blaise and Milli will be in a one shot to go between the stories. 
> 
> i can't wait to write that. there will be Lady Zabini and Dowager Longbottom in there as well. *cackles wickedly*
> 
> so this is what i leave you with for now. i hope you enjoyed the ride. ja ne.

 

"Roderick Hibbert. Hn. Sounds utterly unremarkable." Neville frowned, looking up at Draco from where he was stirring a shimmering gold potion. "Good old Roddy Hibbert who lives just up the lane and likes daffodils and wizarding chess. Sound like the Mayor of a small village to me. Is Hibbert even a magical name? Did one of his ancestors marry into a muggle family?"

 

Draco shrugged, scraping some sliced mandrake root into a bubbling cauldron of his own. "Maybe, they haven't been sharing much information with Milli. More likely Muggleborn with some distant trace of magical legacy."

 

Neville wiped the ladle with a clean cloth and set it aside, making a few notes in the journal next to the potion. "How could some wand waving rando off the street succeed in working such powerful ritual magic then? Line theft is one of the most dangerous and taxing spells to execute correctly. Much less three different times… successfully. He had to have had some kind of power amplifier to not to have killed himself the first time."

 

Draco shook his head ruefully, plopping a whole sprig of mint into his potion and jotting down notes in a separate journal. "There's evidence of a fourth case. Some ten years ago. The body was never found but there were notes on the sale of valuable family assets. Nichols Ivor. Mill thinks that this was his first successful attempt and that Ivor may have been related to Hibbert in some way."

 

The brunette nodded, murmuring. "Hmmm. How do people begin to covet…"

 

"They covet what they see every day." Draco finished for him, handing him a platinum blade, handle first, to slice some moon flower hearts for the next potion in the line. "You're a fan of Hannibal Lector?"

 

"You're not?" Neville chuckled, taking the blade with a sassy wink "He's one of the only bad guys I've ever rooted for in the end. He would have been magnificent in Slytherin. Terrifying but still magnificent."

 

"That's true I suppose." The blonde tilted his head in thought. "Being as rude as I was back then, he probably would have disappeared me and served me up as liver pate at one of his dinner club parties. You know, kind of like the Slug Club but exclusive for students only. That kind of invitation only, never the same dish twice kind of thing. He would have invited Potter and Company and had them eat Draco Foie gras on toast points. Probably with a nice red wine if he could manage it."

 

Neville gave him a look. "I both worried and impressed at where your mind goes."

 

Draco laughed, lowering the flame on his potion as it began to turn purple. He made another note in the journal and checked his watch, jotting down a time stamp next to the notes.

 

"Anyway, I called up Susan Bones and asked her to check old employee records on a hunch. Guess whose name turns up for a eighteen month period about fifteen years ago working as a clerk in the Ludicrous Patents Office as well as vice secretary of the Official Gobstones club?"

 

Neville gaped, "No Fucking way!"

 

The blonde crooked an elegant eyebrow. "Yes fucking way. Word around the water cooler is that the Official Gobstones Club is just a front for the ministries ultra-secret R&D department, being on the same floor as Patents as it was."

 

"Even more secret than the DoM?"

 

Draco nodded, absently plucking the wings off a dead doxy and placing them in a mortar. "Um-mm. Even the DoM have things like ethics and codes of conduct to work within. Where do you think the line theft ritual was even perfected? They take the patents submitted and build off of them, stealing peoples' work. They also deal with most of the magical spells and rituals that have been publicly condemned as dark or grey by Wizengamot.  They called it the Jack Stone Room, after the version of the game with the dark hole in the middle."

 

Neville shook his head ruefully, turning on his stool to face Draco fully. "How do you even know all of this?"

 

The blonde shrugged, " Lucius worked with them for a time. He used to complain to Uncle Sev that he loved the work but hated that people had to see him actually  attending OGC meetings and such as a cover story. Sev would then laugh himself sick because Lucius was such shite at the actual game that his name was always at the bottom of the leader board."

 

"You miss him." Neville's voice was soft, filled with understanding.

 

Draco frowned "Who? Lucius?"

 

The brunette shook his head, eyes downcast. "No, I mean, my condolences for your mum and dad of course but I meant Severus. I know that he was very important to you."

 

"Yeah, he was my favourite person." Draco fiddled with his pen, his gaze distant. "I know he was a holy terror to you in school but…"

 

"You loved him. I can understand that. He was family. Kin. " Neville gave a bittersweet laugh. "It's kind of like my gran. She's a right terror to everyone, even me. I'm not sure that I would care for her much if we weren't related by blood. I think her heart calcified the night my parents were attacked and that she could not  make herself love  anyone after that."

 

Hazel eyes looked up to meet grey ones.

 

"That's not to say that I didn't hate Snape with a passion when I was at school. Part of me still does. He was such a gigantic bastard to me. But I can understand how you feel about him. Then there was all that shite in the Prophet about him after his death. "

 

He scoffed hotly. "They all but dragged his corpse down Diagon Alley with some of the bullshite they published before the Creevey Brothers stepped in and took over. Don't get me wrong, the man was as ornery as a pit viper being poked with a sharp stick on a good day but he was no fucking Voldemort."

 

Draco stared at the other man for a minute before setting down his pen and sliding off his stool. He walked calmly into the brunette's space, coming to stand between his legs as one had settled on a broad shoulder and the other stole into soft curly hair. He slotted their lips together, swallowing a soft moan as strong hands came up to pull him close.

 

Neville tasted like coffee and dark chocolate from the pastries they'd shared for brunch, his firm body warm and solid against Draco's. Their bodies fit to perfectly together and one of Draco's hands slid down his firm chest to settle on a thickly muscled thigh. In return a large calloused hand cupped the blond's pert ass and squeezed gently.

 

The blond gasped against his lips and pressed his body closer, squirming as Neville's hand shifted to the cleft of his ass and curled inwards. That move had the blond squeaking into the kiss and going up on his toes, his hands curling into the thick forest green Henley Neville was wearing with a pair of worn and comfortable jeans and brown leather boots.

 

They finally parted for air, dragging much needed oxygen into desperate lungs as they traded soft feather light kisses. Draco's hand found Neville's and tugged him off the stool, never losing eye contact as he guided him away from the work table and across the loft to his bed.

 

The other man's eyes were burning with desire, his hard on already straining against his jeans as he kicked off his shoes and pulled off his socks. Draco started to undress as well, slowly and without show. This was no strip tease or seduction and he felt uncommonly shy for some strange reason.

 

Neville's cock was thick and uncut, nestled in dark curls and frankly prettier than it had any right to be. He took the time to fish his wand out of his jeans and flick a stasis spell at the potions bubbling away on the tables before dropping it on the bed.

 

They tumbled unto the sheets with hot gasping kisses and exploring hands, scooting up against the pillows in a wonderful slide of warm skin on skin. Draco shook and trembled against the cool sheets as deft hands and a hot, rough tongue explored his body, honing in on his sensitive places as if the brunette had a map and GPS.

 

The blonde cried out when his cock was enveloped by a hot wet mouth, curling up off the bed as he buried one hand into soft brown curls.  His other hands clawed dull nails along thick tattoed arms  and shoulders, then along the corded broad back. A calloused hand joined the hot wet suction at his cock and the other dipped lower to presses against his perineum.

 

Draco was only able to give a choked off warning before he was cumming down an  accommodating throat. He keened, arching his back as firm hands framed his hips and kept them from bucking off the bed.  
 

"Hecate preserve me" he gasped, sagging unto the sheets with a great exhale.  Neville chuckled in reply, kissing his way up Draco's body, sucking and biting at this nipples gently before claiming his lips with a deep and hungry kiss. He pulled back, looking down at the blond with a look of warm fondness.

 

"You are so fucking beautiful. Even in school with that fucking bratty sneer and gel helmet." he pressed down between Draco's spread legs, leaning on his elbows and he ground his hips against the man below him. "Sometimes I'd catch a glimpse of you in the library or down by the lake and  you thought no one was paying attention. You'd be nose deep in a book or laying back on the grass, hanging out with your friends and you'd have this look on your face…"

 

He slipped a hand under Draco's thigh and brought it up to wrap around his waist.

 

"… Like you were at peace with the world and didn't have to act a certain way or the perfect pureblood Slytherin. It felt like I'd learned a great and terrible secret."

 

He rolled his hips deeply and kissed away Draco's gasping breath, reaching for his wand and casting a few preparation spells. The blond gasped at the cool magic, arching his back as the spell travelled to his own twitching cock and up his spine.

 

"Just like you look now.  So fucking beautiful Dray." he dipped in for another kiss, reaching down to line up his cock to Draco's slick entrance. He'd already done the standard charms so his flared cock head slipped past the throbbing ring of muscle with easy pop.

 

Draco gasped, gripping Neville's arms tightly as the cock sunk deeper in side him. He keened at the intrusion, hissing breath harshly through his teeth and making little desperate noises which the brunette dipped low to muffle with quick and hungry kisses.

 

Neville grunted once he was fully seated, taking a moment to calm his racing heart. When he was sure that he wouldn't cum from just being balls deep in that perfect ass, he sat back on his haunches and smiled down at the man laying before him.

 

Draco truly was beautiful with his blonde hair damp and curling around his ears, his bright grey eyes dilated and glazed. His pale skin was flushed pink that spanned from his cheeks and forehead down his neck and chest. A trail of fine blond hair ran from his stomach down to his crotch where his cock jutted out proudly, flushed red and leaking with pre-cum.

 

Neville rolled his hips experimentally and Draco moaned, squirming as his own cock twitched, a spurt of pre-cum dripping unto his taut stomach. The brunette used a thumb to rub the liquid into the blond's skin, watching as Draco shuddered and bit his swollen lip, his eyes glued to digit rubbing circles in his kin.

 

He wanted to stay like this forever, to have the blond live on his hot cock. He wanted to wake up every morning with the man in his arms, to kiss and touch pale skin still sleep warm and soft. To slide into a still slick hole and fuck that prefect ass deep.

 

He wanted to feed the man breakfast and bring him coffee in bed. He wanted to see the blond wearing his clothes and take him on adventures all over the world, discovering new things and making new potions.

 

Sweet Gaia, he wanted this man so much he couldn't find breath.

 

He rocked his hips deeply, savoring the wanton sounds the blond was making. Taking Draco's legs and propping them up on his shoulders, he settled his hands on the trim waist and began to fuck in earnest.

 

Draco screamed, his eyes rolling back in his head as he gripped the pillow; his breath caught in his throat with the first thrust. Oh goddess, that was so fucking deep. Neville's cock seemed to fit inside him perfectly, the veined shaft dragging on his insides deliciously as the other man set a steady pace.

 

The angle sent the thrusts even deeper, sending pleasure like lightning along his  nerves and making his toes curl up by the brunette's ears. His hands scrambled for purchase, finally clinging desperately to the man's taut forearms, his pale fingers against tanned skin and beautiful ink that curved almost lovingly around the muscled limbs.

 

A litany of hushed pleas and whispered endearments spilled from his lips helplessly, his head rolling from side to side as he was so lovingly and thoroughly fucked. Tears leaked from the corners of his eyes and into his hair and warm hands came ups to pet against his sides in comfort as Neville slowed his pace.

 

"Hey love," his own breath was thready and a bit strained. His brown eyes warm with concern. "Do you need me to stop?"

 

Draco shook his head wildly, thrusting his hips up and trying to fuck himself on the cock filling him whole. "Unh. No. don't stop. Please don't stop." he moaned, "need you… so fucking good. So deep inside me. Oh Goddess don't stop."

 

Neville nodded, sweat dripping down his neck unto his back and shoulders. He shifted the legs from on his shoulders to around his waist and pulled Draco closer, leaning over him and propping up on his elbows. This position brought him in close for a wet and sloppy kiss and he started pistoning his hips once again, jerking sharply with each thrust forward.

 

Draco wailed, his back arching into a bow as his legs hitched higher and tightened around the other man's waist. He grabbed hold of thick biceps and panted, his body pushing down wantonly with every thrust. He wanted more, he wanted the other man deeper. He wanted it harder. His body felt pulled taut like a bow string and thrummed heavy like a drum through his entire being.

 

He was outright weeping now, pressing clumsy open mouth kissed into the bicep before him when a hand guided his mouth to his lover's and he surrendered, opening completely as the brunette plundered his mouth. The kisses travelled down his jaw line and neck, the brunette sucking bruises into his pale neck as the pace picked up.

 

Soon enough, Neville's hips began to falter, his rhythm going erratic and a gentle hand stole between them and began to fist Draco's leaking cock. Draco froze, shuddering deeply through his second orgasm, his grey eyes rolling up in his head as his cock spurted cum all over their chests.

 

Neville treasured the gutted sounds the blond was making, his own pleasure just within grasp. He upped the pace, slamming into the blonde with faltering control. Hands stole into his hair and down his back, pulling him down and closer to the blond. They guided his face to Draco's neck and soothed him as he toppled over the edge, grunting harshly as he spilled deep within his lover.

 

By the time he was able to catch him breath, coming down from the euphoria, there was a hand rubbing soothing circles in the middle of his back and a soft voice whispering soothing words in his hair. Slim legs were still curled around his waist, crossed at the ankles and a slick well fucked hole clenched around his softening dick.

 

He took a deep breath, then another, feeling the heart racing next to his. They are covered in sweat and other things and it was all a bit over heated but there was nowhere that he would rather have been. He lifted his heavy head to gaze down at shining grey eyes and felt his heart swell.

 

 _I fucking love you._ He thought in his head but didn't say it. Draco would never accept that kind of sentiment yet but Neville Longbottom was nothing if not patient. The Maasai tribe in Africa didn't call him the Sleeping Lion for no reason.

 

"You okay love?"

 

He smiled down at the blonde, his heart doing a flip when he got a soft smile in return. Draco nodded almost shyly, a fine tremble still running through his lean body.  His cheeked pinked beautifully under Neville's steady gaze and the brunette felt compelled to lean down and claim his soft lips with a kiss.

 

They both moaned as his softened cock slipped free and he rolled to the side, pulling the blonde to drape half over him. He tucked his lover's head under his chin and ran soothing hands down his back and sides. Slowly, surely, Draco's soft breaths evened out and Neville grabbed his wand and cleaned them both before tucking the wood under his pillow.

 

The afternoon sun was streaming through the naked windows of the loft, making Draco's pale skin almost glow, his blond hair curling over his forehead and across his cheek. Neville brushed the curl away with a light touch, smiling indulgently when the blonde crinkled his nose adorably.

 

 _This is mine._ The former Gryffindor said to himself, breathing in deeply and pressing a kiss to platinum blond curls. _For as long as he lets me keep him. I'll be his and he'll be mine._

 

The blond snuffled sleepily and shifted, slipping one leg between Neville's before settling into a deep slumber with a mumble of nonsense. Neville chuckled softly, his chest rumbling as he ran a  slightly possessive hand along the long curve of his lover's body.

 

 _For as long as he lets me keep him_ , Neville made the promise again as sleep pulled him under.

 

_On my magic, this I swear._

 

_8888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888_

 

_Epilogue_

 

The elevator dinged and opened unto the parking complex. It was mostly empty, it being such a late hour but it couldn't be helped. Draco had just spent the afternoon into the evening in a meeting with Chief Superintendent Davies and Millicent on the wrap up of the Hibbert Case.

 

Davies had argued hotly for pursuing the matter in Muggle court and as much as both Draco and Millicent agreed with him that the magical world would just sweep four deaths under a rug because they were 'just squibs'; trying to take the situation to a much higher power would only land them in hot water up to their ears.

 

The man had even placed a call to Buckingham Palace only to be told politely yet quite firmly to consider the matter closed. They'd all left the meeting feeling angry and a bit let down but the three of them were also not naïve to the ways of the world and it's shadow politics so they closed up the case and let it go.

 

He made his way to his car, the short heels on his boots clicking echoed across the concrete. A few yards from the car he saw movement at the corner of his eye and spun to face it, a sharp blade dropping from the holster strapped to his arm and into his palm.

 

A cloaked figure stepped out from behind a pillar. "Prince"

 

"Granger." Draco straightened up with a huff, trying to calm his racing heart. "You didn't have to try to scare the hell out of me you know, you could have sent me a text if you wanted to meet."

 

The shadowed looked irate. "I see the obliviators haven't paid you a visit yet."

 

The blond shrugged. "I've been expecting them before this actually. The case has been officially wrapped up on our end for a while. Is that what you came to talk to me about?"

 

Her hand came up, revealing a wand. Draco frowned, tucking away his blade.

 

"I thought that an official obviation team would be sent? There's usually a mandate of what is to be taken or something. The agreement talked about that. Specified it even."

 

Granger tilted her head, "The temporary pardon  agreement placed me in charge of all dealings with you. We can't have others knowing of your involvement, even the Obliviation Department."

 

Draco narrowed icy grey eyes. "So what you are telling me that you could do whatever you want. Make me forget anything you want and no one would be the wiser? That's complete bullshite Granger. We agreed on erasure of your identity as Crow alone. Nothing else. All my other memories are mine and already protected by magical non-disclosure. There's nothing else for you to take."

 

Her silence was damning and his eyes widened in shock.

 

"You're going to take away that day with Horde aren't you? You bloody bitch."

 

"The Statute of Secrecy…"

 

"Fuck the bloody statute!" his road echoed in the empty parking structure. "You're just a jealous petty bitch whose pissed that I got to learn and experience something that you never will, even with your bloody unspeakable status. I've won Granger. And you've lost. That's the end of it."

 

"No no no damn you!" she screeched as she raised her wand.

 

Draco stepped back in fear, bringing the hand clutching his phone up as if to shield himself.

 

Her next words were hissed and filled him with dread.

 

"No, you are the one who has lost Malfoy. Obliviate!"

 

There was a bright blue light. Then nothing.

 

Minutes passed with nothing but the sound of the air conditioning unit clicking over, the cold hair rushing through the vents and ruffling blond hair. A phone rang a few times then stopped. It rang again. Several  messages pinged then it fell silent again.

 

Draco moaned, his head splitting as he rolled to his side and tried to sit up. What the fuck had happened? And what was he lying on cold concrete? He could see his par parked a few spaces away and realized that he must have fainted or something. He subtly checked himself for injuries and for any nearby threats but came up with naught but a splitting headache.

 

Slowly he pushed himself up unto his elbows and realized that he had been gripping something in his pocket. His phone was laying nearby so he curious what the object he was holding could be. His mind was still a bit hazy but eventually he was able to relax his clenched fist.

 

A large coin made of gold with the Gringott's crest and Gobbledeegook carved around the edge lay in his palm, gleaming in the shitty light. Where the fuck did he get this? He hadn't been back to Gringott's in over ten years. He sat up fully, squinting at the coin in the bright false light of the garage. He knew a bit of Gook so he sounded out the words carefully, stumbling over a word or two.

 

"Ghuul daan ghec or daan muugaan taan o duuc daan kac or or okaalken. Hm… May the might of the horde see you through the ranks of your enemies. I wonder what that means?"

 

The coin grew suddenly hot to the touch, a crackle of gold lightning running along the edges before jumping to Draco's chest and then to his forehead. He went blind for a second, magic exploding across his mind and he fell back unto the cold floor with a scream. 

 

After what seemed to be an eternity, he lay gasping; the cooling coin held in a death grip once again. He swallowed heavily, trying valiantly to parse the thoughts tumbling through his mind. It took him a whole minute to realize what had been done to him and he sat up with a snarl.

 

"Granger, you bloody mudblood cunt!"

 

He toppled to his side right after, breathing harshly and trying not to vomit as his vision swam violently.

 

"Shit" he groaned and reached for his phone.

 

"Siri. Call Milli." he slurred, pressing a palm to his aching forehead.

 

Pain exploded behind his eyes at the motion and he panted through clenched teeth so as not to pass the fuck out. He could hear Milli's voice calling his name and gritted out "Parking level 4. Embankment." before the phone fell from his limp fingers.

 

The last thing he knew before it all went dark was the crack of apparition.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> I've had this idea rattling around in my head for a couple of years and decided to dust it off and take a second look when RT April 2018 called for a Harry Potter Story.
> 
> it didn't really go where i plotted but my stories never really do. it went somewhere even better and i am happy to have written it. 
> 
> For anyone who wants to talk about OOCness in the story, this is canon-divergent and my take on what would happen if a certain set of circumstances took place after the war. take it as it is.
> 
> that being said, enjoy!


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